


East and West

by tardiself



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, I just needed to see these characters with this plot, If the events of N&S happened in middle earth, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Slow Burn, This is straight plagiarism no bones, north and south au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardiself/pseuds/tardiself
Summary: "Dear Primula,I wish I could tell you how lonely I am here. How cold and harsh it is here without a sprig of green to its credit. I think that hope and goodness have forsaken this place. I believe I've seen hell, and it's grey as mountain stone."In which Belladonna Baggins has decided to move to Erebor, and Bilbo is joining to take care of his elderly parents. There he meets Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, who seems to be the cruelest of all the Dwarf Lords.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli (Tolkien)/Sigrid (Hobbit Movies), Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Comments: 79
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

Bilbo had keen eyes, keener than anyone else in the small traveling party. Even keener than his mother Belladonna, which was no small statement. He noticed things no one else did and asked more questions than he ought. He asked Gandalf, of course, because his mother wouldn't answer and his father didn't know. Gandalf answered him as well as he could, even when he asked his more bothersome questions such as "Why can't we stay at Rivendell?" Or "Are there goblins in the mountain?" Or even "Why can't we just go around Mirkwood?"

But Bungo, his father, was starting to grumble every time Bilbo got a faraway look in his eye or when he hurried ahead to walk in stride with the Wizard. So, he stopped asking questions, no matter how badly they burned in his mind. A silly one was brewing at the borders of Dale - one he doubted there was a true answer to. But why were the city and the mountain so very grey? Furthermore, why did the world turn from the cheery yellow-greens of the Shire to drab, depressing greys as they went further East?

How he missed those Western greens! He dreamed of them with great fondness. The last memory of the green Shire before this dreadful "uprooting" business was at Cousin Drogo's wedding. He had stood in the Party Field, smiling as he watched his young cousin dance with his new wife. Primula was the perfect image of a blushing bride, dressed in white taffeta and adorned with pink flowers and baby's breath in her hair. Bilbo himself was in a pink waistcoat with a sprig of baby's breath in his breast-pocket as a member of the bridal party. He was closer to Primula than he ever had been to Drogo, but he was thrilled for them both.

Cousin Lobelia had not been nearly as thrilled. At the party, she could often be heard grumbling about how the wedding was far too expensive and above the station of the Brandybuck bride. It was plain to anyone she spoke that she was only jealous that her own wedding several months prior had not been quite so merry as this one.

Well bebother and confound Lobelia, he thought to himself as he stood a little ways away from the merrymaking. That was before she made her way over to him to bebother and confound him with her sentiments.

"You seem bored, Cousin Bilbo," she said as though prodding him to confirm.

"Not at all!" Bilbo said, adamantly. "I'm only a little tired is all. It's to be expected after making so merry! And besides all that, I'm a little too old for such ornaments as this." He fingered the baby's breath in his pocket.

He had hoped that she would take this as a hint that he was also a little too grownup for making bitter comments about wedding expenses and go away. She did not, however, and so he felt compelled to make some comment. Besides, he had been pondering it for a while. "When I get married," he said. "I would like to wake up on a sunny morning, put on my favorite waistcoat and a nice jacket, and simply walk to the Justice's offices and sign the contract."

Lobelia's eyes widened at such a ridiculous notion. What kind of hobbit didn't want a wedding? Still, she could turn the comment however she wanted if she had the mind to, which she did. "I take it, then, that you're not fond of an extravagant wedding?"

Bilbo laughed. "I am, only not for myself. I think it suits Primula and Drogo, don't you? Oh, I love them both so dearly, but I shall be glad to return to Bag End. Things are more comfortable and quiet there."

Lobelia's eyes glittered at the mention of Bag End. The few times she had been invited there, she had poked her nose into every place it would fit. "Ah, Bag End," she said. "You cannot be kept away. Though, I suppose if you were to marry, you may feel inclined to leave your parents' house."

"No," Bilbo said pointedly. "I cannot be kept away. So, it is a jolly good thing that I am not ready to marry anyone." With that, he walked away, leaving Lobelia to glare after him.

Had he known then of his mother's scheme to take the family away to the East, he may not have acted in such a way to Lobelia. When she and Otho purchased the hole, she would not stop sending him pointed smirks and sidelong glances. He might have spared himself some embarrassment.

Now, he found himself far away from the Shire on the borders of Dale. His father was sitting on the edge of the lake, gazing pathetically at their luggage. "We shall be on the streets. Or, even worse, in the tunnels of the mountain," he muttered, "without any friends or any help at all."

"Father," Bilbo said with a sigh. "We'll stay at the inn until we find a house."

"Yes, a house," Bungo said. "Not a proper hole. Perhaps I had better stay here with Gandalf while you and your mother look. For my health." He added this as an afterthought.

"Oh, no, Mister Baggins," Gandalf said. "I shan't be staying on the coast, so unless you wish to make camp here by yourself, you had better buck up and make ready to brave the streets of Dale."

"Besides," Belladonna added. "Your place is with us, and it won't be long before we find a house. And Gandalf has made all the arrangements as far as the school goes. I shall do plenty of teaching, and Bilbo will help."

"How are you going to do any teaching?" Bungo lamented, wringing his frail hands. "Dwarves aren't interested in Elvish letters. Hobbits are hardly interested in Elvish letters."

Bilbo and Belladonna shared a glance. It was true that out of all the hobbits in their acquaintance, they were the only two that had achieved fluency in Sindarin, and Bilbo doubted very much that any Dwarves would have an interest in accomplishing the same. Still, Bilbo reached out to his father and grabbed his hand. "We shall manage, father," he said. "We're still on the same Earth, after all."

Yet, same Earth or no, Bilbo could not help but share a little of his father's sentiments. The Shire was long behind them.

ooo

The bargemen took the Bagginses and Gandalf across the lake to the foot of the Lonely Mountain. There lay Dale. It's hustle and bustle was unlike anything Bilbo had seen before. If Gandalf were not with them, the poor hobbits would surely have been trampled underfoot by the Big Folk who seemed to be unable to heed anything beyond their destinations. Carts of goods rolled through the streets, pushed by merchants - Man and Dwarf alike. Though it was still grey, it was also sprinkled here and there with gold and glittering jewels.

The grey of everything is making the even the gold look dim, Bilbo thought though he dare not say as much aloud.

Bungo, however, did not have his son's discretion. He clung onto Gandalf's robes like a child. "Oh, why did we come here, Gandalf?" he moaned. "It's going to be awful! I know it is!"

Gandalf snatched his robes away.

Once Bungo was comfortably settled at the inn, Gandalf left to take care of some affairs he had in the mountain. Belladonna and Bilbo went to go find a house. There was a list that Gandalf had given him of places he might look, and Bilbo withdrew it from the inside pocket of his jacket. The very first address led him to a neighborhood where the atmosphere seemed almost familiar to him. It certainly wasn't anything like the Shire, but it could be compared to Bree easily enough. Immediately, Bilbo hoped for the place. It would put his father at ease to be in a house that was similar to somewhere he'd been before. With a deep breath, he walked up the steps into the house.

Already, there was a man and a dwarf inside one of the rooms, and neither took any notice of Bilbo. "The living room is quite spacious, as you can see," the Man was saying.

Drat, Bilbo thought, it's already spoken for.

"The house isn't for me," the dwarf answered, sounding almost defensive. "I'm making inquiries on behalf of one of the king's business acquaintances. Well, one of the king's acquaintance's acquaintances. She's a halfling from the West, so she's used to living simply. Hobbits are not usually of great property or fortune. It does make me wonder, though, why a Hobbit would leave the Shire. And come so far! But they are traditional folk."

The Man considered this. "Perhaps then, this halfling was a little untraditional. And not in an admirable way. Well, no matter. She'll certainly find things to be different in the East. What a business! For a lady to uproot her husband and son to come all the way to Dale. Tradition or no, that is strange behavior."

At this, Bilbo had heard enough, and he stepped into the room.

"Hoy there!" said the Dwarf, his eyes widening as he saw Bilbo. There was no mistaking that Bilbo was a halfling, and there was no reason for a halfling to be in Dale unless he was in connection with the very halfling that had just been the subject of gossip. He bowed low and hid his reddened cheeks. "Dwalin, at your service."

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours and your family's," Bilbo returned stiffly. "Might I ask your business here?"

Dwalin cleared his throat. "I am the King Thorin Oakenshield's overseer. He asked me to look out for properties for your mother."

If Bilbo was shocked at the mention of the king, he didn't show it. Instead, he stepped further into the room, past Dwalin and the man, and looked at its tall furnishings and even taller ceilings. "How much is the rent for the year?" he asked.

"Er, the king will discuss that with your mother. There's no need to concern yourself in money matters, Master Baggins."

Bilbo shook his head. "I have no idea what business your king has in this. I thank him for his trouble, but my mother and I are sharing the task of securing a property. I think you'll find I have quite a good idea of price."

Dwalin was beginning to look even more uncomfortable than before. "The king thinks this will do very well for your mother."

"And where exactly is your king?"

Dwalin tilted his head. "Excuse me?"

Again Bilbo shook his head and marched past Dwalin towards the door. "Take me to see the king. If he won't deal with me, I'll have to deal with him."

"Now, hold on," Dwalin said as he followed the hobbit out. "Who do you think you are that you can just demand an audience with King Thorin Oakenshield?"

Bilbo tilted his head and rolled his eyes upward. "Well if King Thorin cares enough about my family to arrange housing for us, no doubt he'll hear what I have to say."

Dwalin shook his head. "You don't know him, lad. He's not quite like that." Nevertheless, Dwalin began to lead him to the doors of the mountain.

Bilbo turned his nose up at being called "lad." Fifty years may not be many to a dwarf, but it was quite enough to make him mature enough for his own people. But then, there were none of his people about.

The doors of the mountain opened as Dwalin approached them, and the cool air from inside blew Bilbo's hair back. He may have been more adventurous than any hobbit in the Shire when he decided to follow his parents to the far East, but he had yet to go inside a mountain. Nevertheless, he gulped and stepped inside.

The whole place was dark - nearly darker than the woods of Mirkwood had been. Then, he turned a corner, and the whole inside of the mountain seemed to burst with light. If Bilbo thought that Dale had glittered with gold, it was nothing compared to Erebor. The whole place glowed with the shine of precious metals and gems. Crystal lanterns of every color hung from diamond chords on every path. Strange music poured out of the taverns that were carved into the stone walls, and everywhere the buying and selling of goods overtook the comings and goings of every dwarf in Erebor.

"This is Erebor," Bilbo breathed. There was no other word for it. All the legends he had heard had made the name synonymous with beauty and wealth. Here, he saw both tenfold.

"Aye," Dwalin said. "The king will be at work in the forges. Follow me to the throne room, and I'll find his majesty."

The throne room was comparatively quieter than the city, though the distant sound of the royal forges could be heard. Once Dwalin left, Bilbo had the chance to look around. There were two lesser chairs on either side of the great throne, and these he was particularly curious about.

Twenty minutes passed with neither hide nor hair from Dwalin nor the King, and Bilbo was growing restless. Suddenly, he decided that Dwalin had quite abandoned him, and he left to follow the sound of the forges.

He found the forges without difficulty, and he found himself in wonder of what he saw. There were anvils lined in neat rows, each with dwarves hammering metals in perfect sync. Sparks flew from place to place but they did not disturb the workers. A stream of coolant flowed into troughs that were shielded from the fires. The air was thick with gasses, and Bilbo could not help but cough, even as he stared in awe.

And there, above the workers, stood a dwarf that could only be King Under the Mountain. His raven hair was braided back from his face, his beard was trimmed shorter than most dwarfs, and he wore nothing fine and royal. Yet, that did not obstruct his regal bearing nor the way his piercing eyes wandered over the workers. His strong hands gripped the railing of the platform he was on as he moved to and fro on it.

Then, suddenly, his visage changed, and his serene face turned red. "Binur!" he shouted. "Put that pipe out!"

Bilbo tore his eyes away from the king to see a young dwarf by the coolant stream pocket his pipe and run away. Then the king ran down the stairs off his platform, pursuing him, shouting, "I saw you! Binur! Binur! Come here!"

The chase went on into the next room. What could Bilbo do but follow? When he caught up, the king was laying punch after punch on poor Binur, and for a moment Bilbo could only stare in horror. Then, he regained some of his senses. "Stop!" he cried.

The king didn't listen, and planted a kick on Binur that sent him to the ground.

"Stop!" Bilbo cried again. "Please, stop!"

For the first time, the king turned around and noticed Bilbo. "Who are you?" he questioned, wasting no time with pleasantry. "What are you doing here?"

"Bilbo Baggins!" Bilbo said, forgetting to bow or offer his service.

It was then that Dwalin ran up behind Bilbo. "Master Baggins!" he said. Then, he bowed to the king. "My apologies, your majesty. I told him to wait in the throne room."

The king rolled his eyes. "Get him out of here!" He turned back to Binur who had inched away from him. "Aye, crawl away on your belly, and don't come back!"

"Please, your majesty," Binur wheezed. "I have bairns."

This earned him no pity from the king. In fact, it earned him another kick. "You know the rules!"

"They'll starve, your majesty, please!"

"Better they starve than burn to death!" the king returned. "Get out before I have you imprisoned!" He turned again to Dwalin and shouted so loud that Bilbo jumped. "Get that Halfling out of here!"

"Please, Master Baggins," Dwalin said. Then, putting his hand on Bilbo's elbow, he led him away.

Bilbo could not leave the mountain soon enough. The King Under the Mountain had frightened and shocked him terribly. So, this was how dwarves conducted business?

"Well," Bilbo said. "They can keep their ways, but I can't say I care for them a bit!"

Still, the memory of the regal king before his rage compelled him to look back as he left through the doors of the mountain. There, standing on a balcony above the doors, a dwarf woman with a dark, grey-streaked beard was watching him leave.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dearest Bilbo,_

_Drogo and I are back from our honeymoon in Buckland. We've been away so long, Drogo has almost learned how to steer a boat! Or so I tell him, and it makes him smile, so why not?_

_Oh, dear Bilbo, now I'm going to say something that will make you very angry, but I can't help it. What was Aunt Belladonna thinking, taking you all so far away from home? What on earth are you doing in that awful place where they craft strange dwarven things? Elvish goods are so much better, when you can come by them. And even if you can't, our own Hobbit crafts are very agreeable!_

_Well, I shan't belabor that point. I am, however, concerned about what you've said about the walls of your new house. Tapestries are hardly wallpaper! I hope you can make yourself more at home soon. I hope also that Gandalf is taking good care of you since he was the one who took you there to begin with. I can't tell you how worried I am for you, but I remain faithfully yours,_

_Primula_ _Baggins_ _nee Brandybuck_

Bilbo smiled as he read Primula's letter, and sharpened his quill for the response. His pen hovered over the parchment as he tried to think of a response, but none came to him. He could hardly explain his mother's actions any more than she seemed to want to. Instead, he wrote only what he could.

_Dearest Primula,_

_I am pleased to report that we've replaced the tapestries with a very pleasant looking wallpaper. It is white with a most charming green, botanical type of print. I think it would be as much to your tastes as it is to mine, though it was a trial obtaining it. It seems that tapestries instead of wallpapers are the fashion here, but I won't be so easily bullied into changing my ideas of a proper home. I was very lucky and found a shop here in Dale that sells oddities from all over the world. Can you imagine! Wallpaper an oddity!_

_Well, I shan't belabor that point either. As far as Gandalf, we have seen a little of him, but he comes and goes as he pleases. He has been kind enough to make sure that father is as comfortable as possible._

Bilbo left the unfinished letter there and went to the parlor where his father was sitting on the sofa and gazing at the wallpaper.

"Good choice of wallpaper, my lad," Bungo said quietly.

Bilbo chose not to mention that it was his only choice of wallpaper and sat down across from Bungo. Before long, Belladonna came into the parlor. Her spectacles were on the end of her nose, and she was absently shuffling through some papers.

Bungo cleared his throat pointedly, and Belladonna's head shot up to look at him. "Yes?" she pressed.

"There has been some talk, my love," he began uncomfortably. Unsure how to proceed, he looked to Bilbo. "Bilbo?"

Belladonna furrowed her brows and also looked to Bilbo. "Bilbo, what does he mean? What talk?"

Bilbo shifted in his armchair (one of dwarvish make that he had bought along with the wallpaper). "I did hear some people talking," he said hesitantly. "While we were holehunting - or househunting rather."

"About why we moved to Dale so abruptly," Bungo continued. "About why we left the Shire."

Belladonna set down her papers and removed her spectacles. "People are talking?" she questioned, confounded.

Bungo folded his arms defensively. "Well, it's only natural after all that people should wonder. It's unusual for hobbits to leave their homes, travel thousands of miles as if to escape something. Just because we follow you without question..." He let his point hang there.

Belladonna considered this, sighed, and reached into her apron pocket to withdraw a letter. "It's from the Justice," she said, handing Bungo the letter. "I keep it with me at all times to remind myself that I made the right decision."

Bungo read the letter once, and looked up to his wife. "Is this all?" he questioned.

"Well, you might as well read it aloud, father," Bilbo grumbled. He could already feel a headache coming on.

"It reads: _Our offices are writing to inform you that you, Belladonna Baggins nee Took, have been named a disturber of the peace due to your constant liaisons with the Big Folk. We ask that you cease all contact with the wizard Gandalf the Grey and surrender any magical items you may have obtained on your adventures with the said wizard to the custody of the county._ And then it's signed by the Justice."

"Yes, exactly!" Belladonna said. "The idea of it! The affrontery! Old Took's daughter named a disturber of the peace! Forced to give up my property and my friendship with Gandalf! Why, that justice is ten years my junior! What does he know about anything?"

Bungo shook his head, his lip quivering. "But surely you don't have anything so magical as to be important! And surely Gandalf would have understood."

Belladonna shook her head and collapsed onto the seat next to her husband. "My conscience wouldn't let me," she said. "I've lived quietly knowing how our neighbors viewed me for some years now. But I cannot renounce my ways publicly, and I certainly won't privately. I've been forced into this, you must understand."

Bungo stood and paced the room once, twice. "I understand," he began slowly his voice rising progressively. "Or I thought I did. I thought the very worst must have happened. That we were in some danger that Gandalf had made you aware of. That some very great matter must have compelled you to uproot us and drag us up to this confounded place! Bag End to the Sackville-Bagginses on a matter of conscience! Our livelihood!"

Belladonna leaned forward, desperately. "It was not like that, Bungo! Really, it is not like that! I already have work teaching, and I will find more! Maybe I will discover that that suits me better than living the predictable Shire life that is expected of me!"

Bungo buried his head in his hands. "The people here do not want learning. They don't want books and culture. Elvish culture no less! It's all metal and gold. It's what they eat and breathe." When he said this, he shook his head once more and retreated out of the parlor.

With a groan, Belladonna leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling; and she stayed that way for some time. "Do you think I've done wrong, Bilbo?" she asked. "Dragging both of you all this way... Bagginses aren't used to this kind of thing."

"You didn't drag me anywhere," he said. "I could have stayed in the Shire if I didn't want to come."

Belladonna looked at Bilbo. "But I know you, my lad," she said. "You wouldn't have let Gandalf take your old parents away all by themselves."

Bilbo hesitated. That was true enough. "Well," he began. "But I did make my choice, didn't I? So, you won't hear a complaint out of me as long as I can still care for you both."

Belladonna smiled as she stood and walked over to Bilbo. "There's a reason you're my favorite son," she said as she ruffled his curls like she used to even when he was a little boy.

"Only son," Bilbo corrected her, but Belladonna was already slipping out of the parlor.

After a moment by himself, Bilbo also left the parlor to resume his letter to Primula.

_And you're right, Primula. Dale is far from home, but it is quite an interesting place. I've been inside the mountain, and it is truly breathtaking though it is not cozy. This part of the East is very industrial, you see. It is, of course, not as green as the Shire. And it is so large that I often lose my way. But many of the Men are friendly here, and there is nearly always someone to point me in the right direction._

ooo

"Always someone to point me in the right direction, indeed!" Bilbo grunted to himself as he found himself quite lost on a cobblestone path that seemed to be more or less abandoned by any living creature save a dog that was rummaging through an overturned rubbish can. Where had Gandalf said his mother's school would be? He couldn't remember, and the directions he had written down were illegible. In anger, he tore the useless parchment in two pieces "Confound it all."

He felt for his coin pouch and retrieved it from his jacket pocket. If he could find anyone at all, he would offer them a tip just to point their finger and tell him where to go.

As he counted his coins, a distant horn sounded. It was almost no time at all before people were flooding the once-empty path. They seemed none too concerned with pushing him about, either. Some even seemed to do so intentionally, laughing as they went.

One particularly forceful lad managed to knock Bilbo's coin pouch out of his hand. There in the middle of the path it sat, trampled; and Bilbo could not reach for it unless he wanted to be trampled as well. And anyway, before he could even make an attempt for it, some scoundrel picked it up and began dangling it just out of his reach. "This yours?" he teased, smiling.

Bilbo was just considering what kind of biting scolding he would give, when another Man in a long, velvet coat grabbed the scoundrel's wrist. "Leave him alone, Alfrid," he said, taking the pouch from him.

"I-" Alfrid began, his eyes widening. "Yes, of course, your royal majestic highness, sir. Just a bit of fun, you see."

"I don't see," the Man in velvet said. "Off with you now."

When Alfrid had gone, the man turned to Bilbo and held out the pouch which Bilbo accepted gratefully. Most activity in the street had cleared, but the Man still led him to a place where he was less likely to be caught underfoot. "Come on, little master," he said. "Be careful where you walk when the horn sounds for the break. But don't worry! None will harm you if they know what's good for them."

Bilbo nodded. "I'm obliged to you," he said. "Thank you, sir." He reached into the coin pouch and withdrew a tip. Hadn't he said to himself he would tip anyone who helped?

The Man regarded the coin but smiled. "Of all the Men here, I need that coin least of all," he said. "And I do not charge for deeds." Without another word, the Man went on his way.

ooo

_Mother is working hard. She is teaching both men and dwarves Sindarin, though some of it is unpaid and unwanted, I'm afraid. But she keeps happy. She entertains her private pupils at home._

"Bilbo!" Belladonna's voice startled him so that ink from his pen blotted on the page and spilled onto his hand.

"Confound it," Bilbo whispered, as he attempted to wipe it off.

"Bilbo!" his mother called again. "Come to the study!"

No time. He stood and went to the study.

When Belladonna saw Bilbo at the door, she stood. "Bilbo, come in and meet my new friend and one of my first proper pupils: King Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo could only stare as the smile he had prepared died on his lips, and it seemed the king could only do the same. They both regarded each other sternly, as Bilbo wished that he was somehow mistaken. Perhaps this was not the same dwarf he had seen behaving so viciously in the forges of the mountain. But those piercing blue eyes had a fire behind them that could not be misplaced. No, this was the same cruel dwarf king.

"Your majesty," Belladonna was saying. "This is my son Bilbo."

"I believe your son and I have already met," the king said. Was that amusement in his voice? Bilbo's spine bristled.

"Ah," Belladonna said, waving away the comment. Thorin was still staring at Bilbo. "Now, Thorin cannot choose between the tale of Feanor or of Beren and Luthien. I, myself, am partial to Beren and Luthien, but it really does all start with Feanor, doesn't it? What do you propose, Bilbo?"

Thorin did not allow Bilbo to answer. "I'm afraid that your son and I met under less than pleasant circumstances. I had to dismiss one of my metalworkers for smoking next to a barrel of coolant." All this he said without taking his eyes away from Bilbo.

Bilbo was near enraged. "I saw you beat a defenseless dwarf who was not your equal!"

"Bilbo!" Belladonna started.

"No," Thorin interrupted. "He's right. I was angry. I have a temper. Coolant such as that is flammable, and unchecked fire is the greatest danger in the forge. I have to be strict."

Bilbo hardly let the king finish his thought before moving to stand behind a chair. Thorin's gaze followed him. "Well, an honorable king would not use his fists on such a pathetic creature. Or shout at children."

"I daresay most kings have not had to see three hundred corpses laid out at the foot of the mountain as I did last year. Many of them were children! The worst catastrophe that has occurred in our kingdom since the dragon." At last, he took his eyes off of Bilbo and stared at his feet. Then, he looked to Belladonna. "I should go. You'll join my family for dinner next week?"

Belladonna looked flabbergasted. "Oh, yes, of course. Um, thank you. We'll start with Beren and Luthien next week."

 _Good choice, mother,_ Bilbo thought. _Better to leave out the story with the ship-burning for now._

"I will ask my sister to call when you're settled," Thorin said.

"By all means!" Belladonna said. "We're always here, aren't we, Bilbo?"

Bilbo didn't answer, and Thorin brushed by him. Out of the study, and out of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Bilbo's letter to Primula continued: _I'll admit that Dale doesn't have any comfortable holes or sturdy mushroom farms, but it does have some pleasant parks where I take the occasional walking holiday (though "holiday" may not be the right word as it takes me only a handful of hours to explore them all)._

Bilbo found himself in one such park, near the foot of the mountain where at least the grass was green and there wasn't an abundance of Big People about to bother him. He could not stop thinking about King Thorin Oakenshield, and he was enraged every time he did. What did a king mean by being so unkind to those beneath him? Danger or no, there were better ways of going about corrections.

As he sat on the grass, he heard the great door of the mountain opening just a few feet away. His head darted up to see a young Human woman with blonde, braided hair leave. She too was dressed in velvet like the Man that had helped Bilbo in the street, but she had a well-used cloak wrapped tightly over her to keep out the cold.

A human leaving the mountain... It made no sense to Bilbo, and he felt compelled to follow her.

She noticed him almost immediately. "Are you following me?" she questioned.

"No!" Bilbo squeaked, shocked that she had noticed him at all. "Well, that is, yes. I didn't mean to startle you, but I was curious about a human leaving the mountain."

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Well, I suppose a human might go in and out of the mountain if a halfling might. You left here the other day, didn't you? I heard you gave Thorin Oakenshield back as good as he gave. I'd have paid a good sum to see it." With that, she continued along the path.

Bilbo blushed. It, of course, wasn't an entirely accurate description of what had happened, but he didn't say so and kept in step with her. "I certainly don't mean to keep you."

"I've just come from any important appointment I might have," she said. "Now, I'm just going to see my father in the Great House."

Bilbo hesitated. "The Great House of Dale?"

"Aye," she answered. "I'm an ambassador to the mountain. That's why I've come from out of it. My father is the king of Dale. Oh, there he is now!"

Bilbo looked, and there was the man that had helped him in the street. He was dressed in the same velvet coat that he had on before, and he looked amused as he looked between his daughter and Bilbo. King Bard of Dale! Bilbo wasn't sure if he should bow or offer his service, so he stayed still.

"Father," the woman - the princess! - called. "This is the halfling I told you about from the day King Thorin beat Binur and sent him away."

"Yes," King Bard said. "And he deserved it. The fool put the whole forge at risk."

Bilbo blinked. He had not expected that sentiment.

King Bard looked at Bilbo as though appraising him. "You are not from this part of the world, are you?"

Bilbo shook away his shock. "No. I'm from the West. From the Shire."

The king smiled, seemingly a little confused. "That's beyond Dale, I reckon," he joked.

"Oh, yes, quite beyond Dale," Bilbo confirmed with a smile.

The king offered his arm to his daughter, and she took it. Together, they continued down the path, and still Bilbo followed.

"You live in the Great House? The one with the golden dragon on the roof?"

"Aye," Bard said.

"And I know your name, your majesty, but I don't know the princess's. My name is Bilbo Baggins."

The king and the princess's step faltered a moment before continuing on. "This is Princess Sigrid of Dale," he said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

Bilbo hesitated. They were both staring at him. "Well, I thought I might visit..." he said. This did not seem well-received. "Excuse me. At home, in the Shire, we visit one another quite a lot and-"

Sigrid interrupted him. "A visit!" she said with a smile. "What would we do if you were to visit? We're not exactly accustomed to hobbit traditions." She and her father exchanged a glance.

"You see," Bard said, "I'm not overfond of visits in the house. Dwarves aplenty seem to make themselves welcome when they choose. And I'm sure in the West, a gentlehobbit such as yourself feels like he can wander into anyone's house whenever he feels like it. But here, we wait to be asked into someone's parlor before they come charging in."

Bilbo stared down at his feet, blushing profusely now. "Excuse me, your majesty, your highness. I didn't mean any offense."

Bard smiled. "That's why I suppose you may visit if you like. But I hear your mother has befriended the King Under the Mountain. With such grand company, I'll wager you'll not remember us."

Thunder began to crack, and the King and the Princess walked away.

ooo

Bilbo was in the house with an Elvish book, when he heard his father call for him desperately from the parlor. "Bilbo!"

Immediately, Bilbo shut the book and hurried to his father. "What's the matter? Are you unwell?"

Bungo did not look unwell. He was by the window, staring out onto the street, and Bilbo came up beside him. Just outside there was an entourage of dwarves, with three of the figures sticking out like diamonds in cobblestone. Two young male dwarves and one woman. They were clad in many gems, deep colors of velvet, and fine expensive furs.

"It must be the king's sister," Bungo breathed.

"There's no mistaking that stern brow," Bilbo conceded with a nod. It was the same as Thorin's, and Thorin's was seared into his memory. "And those must be his nephews. Goodness me! What an expense those furs must have been! They must have spent a third of the mountain gold on them."

Bungo hummed in amusement.

"Wherever will we put them, father?" Bilbo asked, looking around the small parlor. "I doubt the three of them will fit in here with all of their finery." Then both Bilbo and his father laughed aloud.

But soon, whether the Bagginses liked it or not, all three dwarves were in their parlor. Bilbo had made some tea and tried to offer them some lavender cakes, but Kili made a face at them. Fili elbowed his brother. The Princess Dis, however, sipped her tea graciously.

Bilbo sat down next to his father on the sofa and pretended interest in the tea. In reality, his stomach was churning so, he could not have cared less for it. No one spoke for some time.

At length, his father made a gesture to his wrist. "How exquisite!" he said.

Dis gave Bungo a questioning look.

Bungo cleared his throat. "I have never seen the like of that bracelet."

"Ah," Dis said, allowing her fingers to run over the bracelet. It was silver and set with an arrangement of sapphires. "Our craftsmen in the mountain are the very best in the world."

Silence again.

"Are hobbits a musical bunch?" Kili asked.

"Kili," Fili sighed. "Do you see any instruments here?"

"No, that's why I was asking," Kili muttered.

Bilbo offered a polite smile. "Hobbits are fond of music," he said. "But I cannot play any instruments myself. And besides, I hardly think dwarvish instruments would fit in this little house."

"Oh, right you are," Fili agreed. "These rooms are far too small for entertaining."

"Much too small," Kili said after a whistle. "Our staircases are wider than this room."

Dis shot her sons a stern look, and they both made a point of shutting their mouths.

Another long silence.

"I wonder how you can exist without some music in the house," Kili said, looking around the room. "I've played the fiddle so long, it almost seems a necessity."

Bungo and Bilbo exchanged an uncomfortable look. "Well, there are concerts in town I believe," Bilbo said in a friendly but sharp way.

"Right again, Mr. Baggins," Fili confirmed. "And they're very crowded, too. Very popular with the townsfolk. I've been to one or two, but they're hardly a match for the concerts in the mountain. They play mostly Elvish music. From Mirkwood and the like."

Bilbo raised his brows. He was rather fond of Elvish music, himself. "We stayed in Mirkwood for a little while," he said pointedly. "In the halls of King Thranduil."

Kili's eyes widened and took on a faraway look. "Oh, I long to see Mirkwood again." This seemed uncharacteristic for a dwarf, and Fili elbowed him again.

"Well, it is not a long journey," Bilbo said. "Not long for travelers such as yourself, in any case."

"Yes, well, Mother and Uncle don't understand why I long to go."

Under his breath, Fili muttered, "I can hardly understand it myself."

The princes received another stern look from their mother before she turned to Bilbo and Bungo. "Might I ask why you chose to come and live in Dale? Why did you leave... where was it again?"

"Hobbiton," Bungo said, happy to even mention it. Then, he grew sad again. "Well, it was my wife's decision. It was a matter of conscience. But she very much enjoys her lessons with the King. And with the princes, of course."

"Oh, aye," Fili said. "Best Sindarin teacher we could have asked for, seeing that she's not an Elf."

"Well, Elvish stories are all very well for kings of Men who loiter away buried in lore," Dis said. "But we dwarves ought to have our energies focused on the forge. They should have one aim only: to hold and maintain an honorable peace between the craftsmen of the mountain and the merchants of Dale. Go anywhere in the wide world, and the name of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, is known and revered. And his hand is sought after by all the young people in Dale and the Mountain." All this she said with no small amount of pride in her voice.

"Not all of them, surely," Bilbo nearly laughed.

Bungo smiled at Bilbo, but Princess Dis was not amused. "If you had a brother like mine, good sirs, you would not be embarrassed to sing his praises." Bungo lowered his head, and the Princess stood abruptly, her sons following her lead. She gave a pointed look at Kili. "I know that our home is rather unlike the halls Mirkwood. But if you good hobbits can bear to visit it, we shall receive you next week."

The royal family all bowed together and then left.

ooo

Belladonna walked into the halls of Erebor with a whistle, and that was all the comment she could give on the splendor. She was there for a purpose, and she would not be deterred.

She found Princess Dis on one of the balconies in the king's house, overlooking the mines from which the constant clanging of axes could be heard below. "Princess Dis!" she said as she approached the princess smiling warmly.

The princess turned and bestowed a smile on Belladonna.

"What a splendid mountain. What a splendid house!" Belladonna remarked. "But do you not find the proximity to the mines a little... well, noisy?"

"Never," Dis said, raising her bearded chin. "I have never become so fine as to forget the source of my brother's power and wealth. This mine and the forges are everything. There are no others like them in the wide world."

Belladonna leaned over the balcony to gaze down at the mine.

"This mountain is my brother's achievement," Dis continued.

At dinner that evening, Belladonna sat next to Dis while the other dwarves - the king included - talked of metal and jewels.

"Did I tell you, Thorin, about the price of raw iron from the Blue Mountains?" a dwarf by the name of Balin asked.

Thorin smiled. "Yes, I believe you did."

"Well, come on, Thorin," Balin continued. "You can spot a pretty bargain when you see one. It's a great deal cheaper to buy from there than to continue buying from the Iron Hills."

Thorin shook his head. "I don't think they'll be able to keep those prices for long. They'll be penniless in a year, and we shall have our supply interrupted. I would much rather pay more and have a steady supply through Dain's kingdom. There is no finer iron, besides."

"None save from Khazad-dum," Balin sighed. "And there also we might find truesilver. Imagine it, Thorin. Our kingdoms flowing with mithril again."

Thorin gave Balin a warning look.

Dis leaned over to Belladonna. "My brother won't risk Erebor in any risky venture."

Overhearing this, Balin spoke up again. "Even if it means passing up the chance to reclaim the heart of the Misty Mountains."

With furrowed brows, Belladonna added, "But that's the best way, surely," she said. "I should think many lives would have to be spent to reclaim Moria. And already so many lives here depend on the success of Erebor. Well, that's my opinion, in any case."

Some dwarves around her suppressed their laughter, but Thorin was not among them. His face remained stone still and grim.

"By the way, everyone," said a dwarf called Dori. He seemed to be in charge of some trade relations between the rebuilt Laketown and the Mountain. "Have you heard the latest clamoring over the new trade route?"

"I thought you had agreed to the new route," a dwarf called Gloin said.

"Well, I had," said Dori. "First they threatened to stop trade with us if I didn't reroute, which would cost us a hefty sum. The new route takes the bargemen away from the dragon waters where Smaug fell, which are dark and vile."

"So, what was the problem?" Gloin pressed.

"Well, some of the bargemen started claiming they'd need more money to take the new route," Dori sighed, whipping out his long-stemmed pipe.

"What?" Balin said.

"Yes!" Dori continued. "For one, they said the route was longer and more tiresome. And second, they said that they used to drink the dragon water to warm them up and that they'll be cold without it! Even colder than they always claim they are! And here's the beautiful part: the Men are split up amongst themselves as to what they want, and we've been spared the expense."

Now, all of the dwarves laughed openly save Dis and Thorin.

"Oh, come now, Thorin," Dori's brother Nori said. "Surely you don't approve of the Laketown men telling us what to pay them."

"I've had our merchants in Dale avoid the dragon water for the past two years," Thorin replied cooly.

"Well," Gloin said, stroking his fiery beard. "I can't see the profit in it."

"There is no immediate profit," Thorin admitted. "None that you can count in gold and jewels."

Balin furrowed his eyebrows. "But?"

"But," Thorin began, shaking his head. "The merchants are healthier. The dragon water doesn't sicken them. They work for us longer. Their children work for us longer. Surely, there is profit in that."

"But surely," Belladonna piped up. "It's the right thing to do, also!"

Thorin looked at the hobbit. "Sound economic sense, Mistress Baggins. I cannot operate under any other moral law. I run a kingdom. My subjects and workers expect me to be hard but truthful. I always tell them how things are, and they either take it or leave it."

"Nori's always trying tricks with his pub workers," Dori grumbled.

"Aye, you've got to keep them on their toes!" Nori argued, pointing the mouth of his pipe at his brother. "It's no better than a war with them, and we have to either win it or go under."

Many of them seemed to agree with this sentiment. Belladonna did not say anything else the rest of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Gandalf was in the parlor with Bungo when Bilbo walked in with an envelope and piece of parchment in hand. Belladonna was still at dinner. "Father, I've got a letter from Primula," Bilbo said. "Would you like me to read it?"

Instead of answering, Bungo moaned and sank further into the sofa. "I wonder why your mother prefers the company of dwarves and other Big Folk."

"I daresay that she finds it preferable to your constant moaning, Bungo Baggins," Gandalf said. "All the same, I am a little cross with her seeing as she has left me here to deal with the likes of you."

Bilbo then began to feel a little defensive. "Well, you can leave us whenever you choose," he snapped at the wizard.

Gandalf did not stir, but instead grumbled and took out his pipe and his weed pocket. "Well, what does your cousin say?" Gandalf asked when his pipe was lit.

"Erm," Bilbo said, looking down at his letter. "Nothing much. Only that she and Drogo are trying to buy up Bag End. And that our friends miss us."

"Well, do you miss them?" Gandalf asked.

Bilbo held the letter close to his chest. "Of course, I do," he said. "I often find myself wishing I could visit them."

Gandalf hummed. "I daresay you will find other friends to visit," he said. "You are not quite the same hobbit that left the Shire, you understand."

Bilbo did not understand, but Gandalf's words had brought King Bard and Princess Sigrid to mind.

The next morning he packed a basket full of the lavender cakes that Prince Kili had found disagreeable as well as a dressed chicken and several bags of tea and coffee; thus armed he made his way to the Great House.

The Great House was aptly named, for it was the largest in Dale, with the image of a Golden Dragon perched at the highest point of the roof (a gift from the dwarves to Bard for the slaying of the beast). But outside the house were a number of ragged Men, women, and children. Their cheeks were hollow and their unshoed feet were filthy. They streamed in and out of the Great House until the place could take no more visitors. Was this the home of the same King Bard who was not overfond of strangers in the house?

"Pardon me," Bilbo said to a woman coming out of the door with a babe in arms and a little girl at her skirts. "This is the king's house, yes?"

"Only place with a golden dragon on top," the woman said dryly. "Prince Bain is inside giving out the rations if that's why you've come."

Bilbo said nothing but nodded and went inside. A young girl who looked strikingly like Princess Sigrid stopped him just inside. She, too, was dressed in fine clothes. "Hullo!" she said. "You're not here for rations, by your look."

"Well, no," he said. "I've come to see Princess Sigrid."

The girl smiled and curtseyed. "Well, I'm Princess Tilda. Who shall I tell my sister is calling?"

Bilbo smiled at the young princess's manners. "Bilbo Baggins is my name."

"Very well, Mr. Baggins," Tilda said. "Follow me if you will, sir."

Bilbo followed the princess through stone halls until they reached an office where Princess Sigrid sat at a desk pouring over papers. Sigrid looked up when Tilda announced Bilbo, and she looked properly surprised. "Why, Mr. Baggins," she said, gesturing for him to sit in the chair opposite hers. "I did not expect you to come..."

"At all," Bilbo finished for her as he climbed with some trouble onto the seat. "You did not expect me to come at all, your highness. I am sorry it took me so long to come. I truthfully didn't know if I would be welcome. I also wasn't sure if the basket would be offensive, but then this is a king's house. If I was to come without anything, I-"

"If there's a remote possibility of us finding offense, you can be sure we will," Sigrid said. Yet, she smiled. "We're very good at that in Dale."

Bilbo nodded. "I feel as though I've lived in Dale for quite some time now," he said, "but I still find myself constantly at fault whichever way I turn. How long do you think it will take for that to change?"

Sigrid tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brows. "Oh, a couple of years at least. In your case."

Bilbo was prepared to be truly insulted until both Sigrid and Tilda began laughing good-naturedly. So, Bilbo allowed a smile. That is until Sigrid began to cough.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sigrid said between coughs. "I've a bit of a cold I can't quite shake."

The door opened as she said it, and King Bard came in. Bilbo stood and bowed to him. "Princess Sigrid was right," the king said by way of greeting. "She said you would come."

"How was the meeting, father?" Sigrid asked.

Bard looked at Bilbo skeptically, and the hobbit came under the impression that it was not a regular sort of meeting to which the Princess referred.

"Oh, do not worry on my account," Bilbo said. "I've no one to tell any secrets to."

Bard took the other seat across from Sigrid. "No? Your mother has been seen taking supper with the dwarves of Erebor."

Bilbo stuck out his chin. "King Thorin and the two princes are her pupils. The king is certainly not my friend."

Bard nodded and took a deep breath.

"And Binur?" Sigrid asked. Turning to Bilbo, she explained, "He's a friend of ours."

"He's holding up," Bard said. "Barely. He'll be with us when the fire goes up, right enough. If he knows what's good for him. Mr. Baggins, your mother teaches at the lyceum, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does," Bilbo confirmed. "Sunday afternoons."

Bard nodded again, but that seemed to be all the interest he had in Bilbo's family for the present. The rest of the visit passed with pleasantries, and Tilda showed Bilbo out when it was over. Perhaps Gandalf was right. Perhaps he would make some other friends.

ooo

Thorin could hear Kili and Fili dueting on their fiddles in the next room as he pulled on his cloak to go out. Dis was in the parlor examining the family tapestry that had been her project for over a year.

"Dis," he called to her. "Remember that I go to the Bagginses this evening. I will be home to dress, but then out until late."

Dis did not look up from the tapestry but furrowed her brows. "Dress?" she muttered. "Why should you dress up to take tea with a silly family of hobbits?"

Thorin shook his head, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. "Mistress Baggins is an educated lady," he said. He paused and considered the silly family of hobbits. "And her son is a gentleman."

At this, Dis did look up and eyed Thorin suspiciously.

Thorin sighed. "Don't worry, Dis. I'm in no danger from Mr. Baggins. He's very unlikely to consider me a catch. He's from the West. He doesn't care for our Eastern ways."

"Dwarven ways, you mean," Dis scoffed. She stood to draw Thorin's cloak tighter around his shoulders. Still, she grumbled, "Airs and graces! What business has he? A renegade adventurer's son. His mother's now only fit to play at giving useless lectures to those who do not want to hear them. What right has her son to turn up his nose at you?"

Thorin rolled his eyes and kissed his sister's cheek. "Stay in the mountain. There will be a storm later."

ooo

Bilbo was nearly asleep in his chair, barely aware of King Thorin Oakenshield's animated conversation with his mother. A snippet here, a snippet there.

"Our culture is there, in the shadows of every one of these stories," Thorin was saying. "I think that these shall have to be rewritten to include them."

Then there was a lull in the conversation, and Bilbo stirred, opening his eyes to see Thorin look away from him quickly.

"I'm afraid we're boring Master Baggins with my enthusiasm for dwarven history," Thorin said quietly.

Bilbo sat up a little straighter and blinked. "No, no," he said. "Indeed, I'm sure it's fascinating. I'm a little tired, that's all." This was true. He had spent the day tending the garden, which was harder work than the Gamgee's had made it seem. The work had worn him nearly to the bone. He stood to refill his guest's teacup which had surely been emptied in his sleeping neglect.

Thorin watched the stream of tea, his eyes flicking up to Bilbo only once. When the cup was filled, Bilbo held it out the king, and Thorin accepted it with a nod. Their fingers brushed as the cup changed hands, and Bilbo turned swiftly back to his chair to hide his pink cheeks.

As Bilbo sat, his Father walked in. Bungo's smile could not have more plainly been half-hearted.

"Ah, Bungo," Belladonna said. "His majesty has been admiring our newly decorated rooms."

"Oh, yes," Bungo said, his voice tired. "Bilbo tells me there was not a great deal of choice, but these papers are of a similar shad to our drawing-room in Bag End. Though, not quite."

Thorin bowed to Bungo. "Well, on behalf of the East, I'm glad we are almost suitable." As he straightened, he looked at Bilbo again. Bilbo looked away.

"Yes, well," Bungo began again as he took his seat, "clearly, you're very proud of Erebor. And of Dale. My wife admires the energy. And its people are very busy making themselves successful."

"I won't deny it," Thorin sighed. "I'd rather be toiling here success or failure rather than lead a prosperous Western life with their slow, careless days of ease."

"You are mistaken," Bilbo said with an indignant laugh. "You don't know anything about the West. Certainly nothing of the Shire or Hobbiton. It may be a little less energetic in its pursuit of gold, but then there is less suffering than I have seen in your forge. And for what?"

"We keep our culture in our craft," Thorin answered through his teeth.

"But no one wants to buy it!"

Thorin kept his eyes trained on Bilbo. "I think I might say that you do not know the East. Nor Erebor. We dwarves are not all the same whatever your prejudice against us and our ways."

"Oh, I've seen the way their king treats his subjects," Bilbo countered. "You treat them as you wish because they are beneath you."

Thorin gripped his hands in front of them and took a deep breath through the nose. "No, I do not."\

Before the king had finished his sentence, Bilbo started another one. "You've been blessed with good luck and fortune, but others have not-"

"I do know something of hardship," Thorin said. "Anyone may hear the story of the dragon, but the details are often lost in the telling. My younger brother was lost then. My father and grandfather died in battle soon after. I became the head of my family very quickly. I struggled to support them in the Blue Mountains, taking what work I could to see that my sister and her sons did not starve. I think I might say that my only good luck was that I did have a sister of such strong will and integrity. She often went without so I might put aside a little money every week. That taught me self-denial. Now, I'm able to keep her and my nephews in comfort, and I thank her every day for that early training. So, Mr. Baggins, I do not think that I was especially blessed with good fortune or luck."

What could Bilbo say to that? Nothing, of course. And yet, Thorin's eyes were searching him, waiting for his answer. Bilbo lowered his eyes.

At length, Thorin stood. "I have overstayed my welcome."

Belladonna followed suit. "Oh, no, Thorin..."

Thorin ignored her. "Come, Mr. Baggins, let us part as friends despite our differences. If we become more familiar with each other's traditions, we may learn to be more tolerant, I think." With that, he extended his arm.

Bilbo knew what he was meant to do, but he could not make himself do it. To grasp the king's arm in solidarity when he was still so opposed to him. Instead, he turned to clear Thorin's way to the door.

Thorin's open hand turned to a fist, and he left with a lowered gaze.

"Bilbo!" Belladonna scolded as soon as the king had left. "I think you gave Thorin real offense just now in refusing to grasp his arm."

Bilbo busied himself clearing away the tea set. "Well, in the East, people will take offense to anything if you give them half a chance," he snapped. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry if I offended your friend, mother. But I have been working in the house and garden all day so that the king would be comfortable, and I am tired." With the last word, he collapsed back into his armchair.

Bungo walked over to pat Bilbo's hand and nodded sympathetically. "And I'm sure I didn't know where to look when he talked about his past. A father killed in battle!"

Belladonna hesitated. "I'm afraid it was much worse than that," she said. "According to Gandalf, Thrain went to Dol Guldur and was captured by orcs there. They tormented him until he went mad. He even forgot his own name. It was only then that he died. The children and grandchildren lived on nothing for years."

Bilbo now had the decency to feel rather ashamed. "I-" he began. Again, he found he had no words. "I must go to bed. I'm sorry."

ooo

King Bard had invited Bilbo to one of the meetings of the Men of Dale. This one was unlike the others that had come before it. It was in Belladonna's school, close to the mountain. No longer were the Men of Dale afraid of making their doings known to the King Under the Mountain.

Bilbo could see Thorin Oakenshield standing on the balcony above the doors, staring at the men as the gathered. Bilbo met his gaze for but a moment before he joined them.

Belladonna was seated on a chair just outside the hall, and Bilbo sat by her. "My pupils," she explained after clearing her throat, "asked if they could use the hall for a special meeting. How could I refuse them?"

Inside the hall, the meeting had started, and Bilbo could hear King Bard's voice through the closed doors. "Quiet please, my friends! Welcome! This is the first time we have ever gathered in this manner. Before the mountain for King Thorin to see!"

A cheer went up but was soon subdued.

"All shall have the chance to speak as long as we stay orderly," Bard said. "Now we know that in the mountain, trade is better than it has ever been. And that is because our men have taken the dwarven goods to all corners of Middle Earth. And though they are now rich and business is good, they still ask a tribute of us that is starving our children! They have made excuse after excuse. They tell us that they are still recovering from the dragon. Well, so are we. They say that our tribute will come back to us, eventually. Well, I've yet to see it. And still, they pay our men in naught but bones to bring them their wealth."

"If we stop paying tribute, they'll bring in Dwarves from the Blue Mountains and the Iron Hills," one of the men said. "Or if we stop carrying their goods, they'll bring in Westrons to do the work!"

"And that is why we must all work together," Bard said. "If we decide a fair wage and a fair tribute, and none work for less, we'll have a say."

More cheers, but when they died down another voice sounded that Bilbo recognized: Binur's voice. "It's alright for all of you to talk brave," Binur said softly. "And I don't live in the Mountain with my kin. I live here in Dale, so I understand. But my wife is sick, and none of my bairns are old enough for mercenaries. We can't live on what you can pay us not to work. My bairn's'll starve."

There was a long silence before Bard spoke again. "I cannot say we'll end work today or tomorrow," he promised. "All I am saying that we will be ready when the time comes, and we will stick together!"

 _So,_ Bilbo thought, _this is what all of the fuss is about._

ooo

As Belladonna and Bilbo walked home that night, Belladonna sighed. "I know you and your father feel I've let you down."

"Mother, no-"

"No, I know you do," she said. "But I hope you realize that the people here are not so different. They just have different ways."

As they continued their walk, they came to the foot of the mountain. There, at the doors, the king stood. He had poor Binur by the collar. "Get out, and don't come near this mountain again!" he was shouting as he thrust the poor dwarf away. "Who's there?"

"It's only us," Belladonna said.

Binur moved towards the king again. "I promise, your majesty-"

Once again, Thorin pushed him away. "Get away from here!"

Binur retreated into the night.

"Couldn't..." Belladonna began. "Couldn't you show a little mercy-"

"Mistress Baggins!" Thorin said, his voice trembling. He regained a little composure before continuing. "Please. Do not try to tell me my business!"

Bilbo set his jaw against the king, and took his mother's arm. "Remember, they do things differently here, mother!" Without another word, Bilbo turned away from Thorin and did not look back.

ooo

Bilbo fell asleep writing his next letter to Primula. It read:

_Dear Primula,_

_I wish I could tell you how lonely I am here. How cold and harsh it is here without a sprig of green to its credit. I think that hope and goodness have forsaken this place. I believe I've seen hell, and it's grey as mountain stone._

ooo

In the forge, Thorin walked easily and steadily through the sparks of the anvils and the swirling steam. Yet, his mind was racing, for try as he might he could not put the thought of Bilbo Baggins out of his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Princess Dis moved through the royal forge like a swan over a lake. Anyone who saw her could see how comfortable she was among the sound of clanging hammers and hissing steam. She was as much in command of the place as the king himself, and all the workers of the forge revered her for it.

"Here comes her highness," they said in whispers amongst themselves. "She belongs here, right enough; but I reckon she can smell it when you're not working." This was said as the Princess cooly admonished a worker for being idle at the anvil.

But scoldings were not the only thing she offered in her visits to the forge. She came upon an idle dwarf who was coughing like her lungs were trying to escape her chest.

"Go home," the princess instructed her.

The dwarf's head darted up desperately. "No, your highness! My place here is my family's greatest honor."

"But you're sick, and you can't work," Dis said. Then, she paused a moment. "Is there another at home that can take your place?"

The dwarf nodded. "My brother, your highness."

Dis sighed. "If he can be here within the hour, he can hold your place for you until you recover."

When she said this, the dwarf left with many bows, promising to be forever at the princess's service. In such a manner, the princess went through the forge. She was the picture of mithril. Light as a feather but hard as dragon scales. Ever stern, yet ever gracious.

The king smiled at his sister as she moved to stand by him on his high platform overlooking the workers. "You nearly know this forge better than I do, Dis," he said to her.

She gave a nod and a smile. "Someone had better. You've yet to take a consort, after all."

Thorin rolled his eyes but smiled in return. "You had better leave off your ideas of me taking a consort," he said with a laugh. "I cannot think of any I desire that would have me. Besides, what consort of mine would ever love this forge as you do?"

ooo

Bilbo sat on a patch of grass close outside the doors of the mountain that he had grown fond of and slung his pack off of his shoulder. There, he kept a miniature writing desk he had bought from a dwarvish vendor. It was wooden and carved with chrysanthemums with pockets for both the inkpot and quill and a little paperweight. Soon, it was across his knees and set up properly, and he began to compose a new letter to Primula.

_Dear Primula,_

_You ask me what I miss most about the shire. Well, my dear, aside from your friendship I miss the feeling of the seasons changing around me. No, you cannot quite feel them in Dale, and I cannot imagine what it is like in Erebor where there must be no seasons at all. Despite all of that, I do believe that we have finally put winter behind us, and I can finally resume my daily walks. As I write, I am sitting on a patch of grass and there are little white flowers all around me, and I find myself wishing I had Master Gamgee's knowledge of flowers._

_This place is not altogether unpleasant. I only wish it was not so close to the mountain._ _Yet, I have a need to be near the mountain today. I have a meeting with the Princess Dis to attend. I am meaning to ask her about a physician for Father._

As Bilbo wrote the words, the door of the mountain opened, and Dwalin was there, gesturing for him to come forward. The dwarf bowed. "A pleasure to see you again, Master Baggins," he said, but his voice was gruff as if he was unused to such pleasantry. "I understand our princess is expecting you."

"And you," Bilbo returned with a small bow. He was as unused to dwarvish pleasantry as Dwalin was used to the hobbitish kind. "And yes, she is."

"Then follow me, if you will."

Dwalin led him past the throne room and into the royal family's personal apartments. The marble rooms were tall and emerald green, but Bilbo was drawn in by the sound of the forge. He could hear it from just outside, and he followed the noise to an open balcony.

There he saw Thorin marching across the forge with another dwarf who seemed to be of status. Thorin looked cross. _But,_ Bilbo thought with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, _how is that different from usual?_

"I don't know why you're blaming me!" the other dwarf was saying.

"You can do what you like with your business, Nori," Thorin answered, stopping with his arms folded over his chest. "But we may all suffer if you play your hand wrong."

"The Men wanted us to take down the price by five percent!" Nori countered. "Would you have allowed that?"

Thorin leaned in. "No, but I would have told them so instead of pretending to think about it only to turn them down later and provoke them."

Nori blinked and then grew even more cross. "Excuse me, your majesty, are you accusing me of encouraging an uprising? How would you handle those Men?"

"I would not deliberately deceive them," Thorin answered and turned on his heel. "Good day!"

Bilbo squinted at the retreating figure of the king. Whatever that was all about, he would rather not know.

He was interrupted from his reverie by the voice of the princess saying, "Here is the address of our physician. Oin is the finest in the East."

Bilbo spun around with red cheeks. He had not heard Dis come in. She was standing in the center of the room, holding out a slip of parchment to him. Bilbo accepted the parchment with a bow and mumbled thanks.

"You did not have to come in person," Dis said, clasping her ringed fingers together in front of her. "You could have sent the wizard."

Bilbo nearly laughed to think of Gandalf running to and from the mountain doing errands for the Baggins family.

"You have been in our strange, dwarven country for some time now, Mr. Baggins," Dis continued. "I am surprised you have not needed a physician yet."

"We don't!" Bilbo said quickly, and he looked down at the parchment. "It's just a precaution... in case. My father has low spirits."

Dis quirked a brow. "Really?" she said. "We don't have much of that kind of thing here. But I'm sure Oin will help if he can."

With a nod and a bow, Bilbo said, "I'm sorry to disturb you." Without another word, he made for the door.

Before he could open it, however, Dis began to talk again. "You do not disturb me," she said. "But even you who are not remotely interested in the affairs between our two kingdoms must know that there is talk of an uprising against my brother."

Bilbo furrowed his brow. What an unexpected turn of conversation! "Well, what would they gain by an uprising? Will they be wanting the tribute lowered?"

Dis dropped her hands to her sides and sighed deeply. "That is what they will say. But the truth is that there are those who have raised themselves up to be worthy of the title of king, and others will always seek to pull them down. That is the way of the world, Mr. Baggins, and there is nothing that you nor I can do about it."

Unsure what more to say, Bilbo nodded and bowed again and left.

Outside the mountain were the princesses Sigrid and Tilda, and they seemed to be the first in a long line of Men waiting to be let inside. Tilda noticed Bilbo first. "Hullo, Mr. Baggins!" she said with a curtsey.

"Your highnesses!" Bilbo returned with a smile and an exaggerated bow.

"Have you been visiting the old dragon?" Tilda asked conspiratorily.

"Tilda!" Sigrid scolded.

Bilbo tilted his head to the side. "Dragon? I thought..."

"Old Dragon is a sort of nickname some have for the king," Sigrid explained. She gave Tilda a pointed look. "And it isn't polite to mention it in front of the mountain."

"But you and Da say it..." Tilda argued under her breath. Sigrid rolled her eyes.

Bilbo looked around and leaned in. "I take it you're not fond of the king?" he questioned every bit as conspiratory as Tilda had been.

Sigrid blushed. "The king? No. But he has allowed me to represent my people to him. And it gives me a chance to go into the mountain. The princes are not so bad to deal with."

"So, would you join an uprising?" Bilbo asked. Sigrid's eyes went wide, so he continued, "Oh, I'm not saying there will be one. But if there was..."

But neither Sigrid nor Tilda were paying Bilbo any heed anymore. Their eyes had drifted behind them. He turned to see none other than Thorin standing over his shoulder.

"Princess Sigrid, Princess Tilda," the king said, bowing to both. "I shall be with you both momentarily."

Sigrid nodded and ushered Tilda inside the mountain.

A long, nigh unbearable silence passed between Bilbo and Thorin. The hobbit was the first to break it. "Your sister has kindly given me the name of your physician."

Thorin's head tilted to the side, and his brows went up. Was that concern? "You're ill?"

"No!" Bilbo nearly snapped. Why did everyone assume he was ill? "No, it's just a precaution."

Thorin nodded and turned to walk closer to the doors. Bilbo felt compelled to follow and walk alongside him if only to explain why he had been mentioning an uprising. "Princess Dis is always accusing me of knowing nothing about Erebor and Dale and the people who live here."

Thorin looked sideways at Bilbo. "I doubt she meant that you should hang on to the tittle-tattle of the little princesses of Dale."

"Well, Princess Sigrid is grown. She's certainly grown enough to know her own mind," Bilbo said, feeling suddenly defensive of his friends.

"You are not the first to tell me that," Thorin mused.

"Besides," Bilbo grumbled. "They weren't telling me any secrets."

Thorin shook his head. "Were they not? Men seem quite practiced in telling others about their wages, tributes, and taxes."

"Do you mind that if they tell the truth?" Bilbo pressed.

Thorin folded his arms over his broad chest. "Of course not. I apologize to no one for the wages we pay the men or the tribute we require of them. It is no secret, and it is in plain sight for anyone to see."

"And what about how they spend their money? Aside from the tribute?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin stopped and faced Bilbo. "That is none of my concern," he said. "My duty is to see to the running of the mountain and the royal forge. If I neglect that, all of the workers - both dwarf and man - will cease to prosper."

Bilbo squinted. "But what about your moral duty?"

"If Sigrid attends to her duty, and her father's men do not disrupt the flow of trade, what they do in their own time is not my concern," Thorin sighed. "Here in the East we value our independence."

"But surely you must take an interest."

"I am a king of dwarves, not men," Thorin answered. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Baggins. I would like to play the tyrannical king for you, but I'll answer your questions as honestly as you ask them."

Then, over Thorin's shoulder, on the balcony above the doors, Bilbo noticed the Princess Dis standing above them and gazing down like a great, black, angry raven. And when Thorin turned to see her, too, Bilbo left as soon as he could.

ooo

Bilbo found himself telling Sigrid all about Dis's high-handed, overbearing gaze the next time he visited her for tea. The words "great, black, angry raven" came into play more than once. "Guarding the nest!" he laughed. "That's what she was doing, I guarantee you. As if I would ever consider her brother a suitor!"

Sigrid laughed right along with Bilbo. "Oh, I would worry," she said. "But dwarves are very particular about that kind of thing. They have a One they look for, and some say they didn't know love until they met their One."

"That seems like a Dwarvish Secret," Bilbo mused, furrowing his brows. "How do you know that Sigrid?"

Sigrid didn't answer but shrugged and sipped her tea instead. "Come now, Mr. Bilbo," she said, regaining her gaiety. "All that aside, don't say you hadn't thought about Thorin Oakenshield. Mind you, you'd have to get some smarter clothes if you were to be the consort of Erebor."

Bilbo put his hand defensively on his crimson jacket. "Thank you," he scoffed though he smiled. "I'll have you know that this was new last year! It's all the hiking across the world that's worn it out."

"You wouldn't stand a chance," Sigrid said fondly. "There's plenty of folk after him. Dwarves and Men alike."

"Well, they are welcome to him, and with my good wishes!" Bilbo said, shaking his head. "If I ever had a brother, I'd not hang onto him as she does."

Sigrid smiled and poured Bilbo more tea, coughing as she did. "Pardon me," she said. "Something about dwarvish fumes from the forge doesn't sit right in human lungs."

Bilbo patted Sigrid's hand. "You could leave the mountain for a little while," he suggested. "Let Bain be the ambassador."

Sigrid shook her head. "I'll not give up the mountain," she said, and her eyes went distant. "Besides, Da needs me there. Bain is learning, but he's still too young for that role. I don't want to put it all on his head."

"You love him very much, don't you?"

"Aye," she said. "Siblings are like that, you know. Maybe we shouldn't be too hard on Dis. Goodness, even the princes are like that with each other."

Bilbo tilted his head to the side. "Are they?"

Sigrid nodded. "Fili would pull down the moon for Kili, I'm sure. Even if the younger does tend to stir up trouble wherever he goes."

Bilbo thought of the bright-eyed young dwarf whose first question for Bilbo was where the instruments were. Perhaps he was a little bothersome, but that was as far as Bilbo would describe him. "Is Kili really very troublesome?"

Sigrid paused. "There's a rumor," she finally sighed. "Just among the nobility, of course. A rumor that on the journey to retake the mountain, Kili found his One."

"Oh?" Bilbo asked. "Is that so bad?"

Sigrid quirked a brow. "It is if she's an Elf." She sipped her tea.


	6. Chapter 6

Thorin passed by Dis and Kili in the drawing-room, pouring over parchment, while Kili hummed a deep song that sounded much too similar to a dirty one sung in the forge. A glance over his sister's shoulder told Thorin she was writing to order goods. Fine foods and garments, skilled musicians, and arrangements of crystal and gold. Not to mention the polishing of silver plates and utensils, the waxing of the grand rooms, and the hiring of a hundred additional dwarrows. All of these things could be for only one purpose: the solstice celebration under the mountain.

"Preparations already?" Thorin asked after a hum.

Dis looked up at him. "If we are going to entertain, we must do so properly," she said. Then she lowered her voice. "You're not regretting sending the invitations are you?"

Thorin drew in a breath and exhaled with a hiss. He would push all thoughts of the impending uprising for the time being. "No," he said. "No, spend what you like. But it may have to be the last feast we have for some time. Who are you inviting?"

"All the members of the Company, of course," Dis said, beginning to read off of her list. "Some of our friends from the Blue Mountains. Dain will not come, but we must invite him all the same. The Bagginses will come, I presume?"

"Oh, they should," Kili interrupted his song to add. "It would be a very great advantage to Mistress Baggins to be introduced to all the noble dwarrows."

Thorin paced across the room once as he tried to stop the thought of Bilbo Baggins coming into his head. More and more he had found the memory of the hobbit berating him in that study plaguing him. Bilbo was friends with the Men of Lake Town and did not seem fond of dwarves. Leastways not of the royal family. "I am sure that motive would not influence them, Kili."

"Well, you seem to understand the hobbits very well, uncle," Kili teased. "But I still doubt that they are really much different from anyone else that we meet."

"She seems a worthy lady," Dis commented as she jotted down a sum on spare parchment. "Though maybe a little too simple for the kind of life a dwarrow is accustomed to. The older Mr. Baggins is a bit of a dandy with his low spirits. As for their son, he gives himself airs! I'm not sure what he thinks warrants them."

"Certainly not musical talent," Kili mused absently. "He doesn't play any instrument."

The comment had scarcely left Kili's mouth when Thorin shot him with a glare. "Go on, Kili. What else does he lack to bring him up to your standard?"

Dis looked over her shoulder. "I heard Master Baggins say he could not play myself, Thorin. You do go on about him terribly. Perhaps if you let us alone, we might see his merits and like him."

"Oh, I like him well enough," Kili said. "But he's a little ridiculous."

"And you have room to speak on ridiculousness, have you?" Thorin questioned.

Then Kili grew cross and made a point of turning away from his uncle.

Thorin paused in his pacing and put his hand on the back of his sister's chair. "I wish you would try to like Master Baggins, Dis."

The look that Dis gave him pierced through flesh and bone. "Why?" she asked, her voice low. "You've not formed an attachment, have you? When I talked about you taking a consort, he wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

Thorin rolled his eyes.

Dis returned to her work, but she kept her brother in the corner of her eye. "Mind you," she continued. "He'd never have you. Aye, he nearly laughed in my face at the thought of it."

Thorin turned his head away, looking to the balcony over which he could see the doors of the mountain. "He would never have me," he agreed.

"He's much too arrogant," Dis explained. "Too full of himself. I would like to know if he thinks he could do any better than the king under the mountain."

Thorin glanced down at his boots and then back to Dis. "You can believe me, then, when I say this out of complete indifference to Master Baggins," he began, his words slow and voice careful. "Mistress Baggins is our friend, and Bilbo is her only son. We ought to all make an effort to befriend him."

Kili laughed. "I only wish I knew why you talked about him so much. Don't you get tired of it?"

Thorin was not laughing. "What should I talk about then, Kili? How about an uprising for a more pleasant topic?"

Kili shut his mouth.

ooo

In the great council hall of Dale, King Bard had arranged another meeting. All of the Men were restless, one speaking over another until all of the gathering had erupted into the great cry of a mob demanding change. It brought pain to Bard's head to hear their racket and witness their disorganization. Yet, it brought a smile to his face to see so many, and all of them were passionate about the cause.

"Now, now!" Bard cried out, bringing the shouts in the hall to a rippling mutter. "Many of the private tradesmen have been told not to expect a decrease in the tax. What about the bargemen?"

"Nothing yet!" one of them cried. "Nothing ever, it would seem!"

"So, what would you have your brothers do?" Bard asked them. "What you have your king do?"

The response was unanimous and it took no time to come to the decision. "Cease the tribute! Cease the work!"

Bard nodded and paced to and fro. "I thought so," he said. "Then now is the time. We will all cease our work at the end of the week, and no one will start it again until all of this matter is settled."

"How long do you think it will take the dwarves to yield?" the questions rose up.

"With no trade going out of the mountain and no profit coming in?" Bard asked. "Two weeks at the most."

"What if they send for Southron hands?" a voice in the crowd asked.

Another voice answered, "They wouldn't dare!"

"Thorin would!"

"I'd challenge him over it if I was given half a chance! Or any Southron who tries to take our wages!"

Bard scowled and put out his hand. "No!" he said. "No violence. I did not ask to become king, but I accepted the role when it was offered to me. I did it, for I knew there would be a day like this when my brothers would need guidance. Understand, I would neither encourage nor allow this uprising if it were not of a great need. And, indeed, the need is great. But the dwarves expect us to behave as lesser creatures. Like the animals that fight each other for food at the foot of the mountain. But we are not! We have minds and souls. Though our kingdom be new, there is wisdom here. We must, then, handle this uprising wisely. None will work for dwarves. That is as far as we will go until we are dealt with fairly. Understood?"

Cries of affirmation went up around the hall, and the day of judgment was decided.

ooo

Thorin had come to dread Gloin's report of the treasury. Every day, it seemed, a new expense threatened the success of the mountain kingdom he had worked so carefully to rebuild. It was not from lack of care that the gold hordes had begun to dwindle. Perhaps, it was from too much of it. Indeed, he'd begun to regret promising a thirteenth of the gold to everyone in the Company. He could surely do with an extra thirteenth share now.

He had given Dis the reports, and after reading them she paced to and fro through the study. How much like their grandfather she looked, with her lips pressed in a tight line and her fingers tugging at the ends of her mustache. Thror would have never let the state of the mountain to be so reduced.

"Are the Men about to begin their uprising?" she asked, her eyes distant.

Thorin leaned over the mantle of the fireplace, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "They will the moment I have to turn down their requests for higher wages and lower tribute."

"Surely, more orders for our goods will come."

"The dwarves of the Blue Mountains are flooding the market," Thorin spat bitterly. "Our only chance is to produce faster and at a lower price. But the faster we fill the orders, the longer it takes for us to be paid for them. We owe our own workers more gold than we can pay them, but the Men are less patient. They will have their uprising."

Dis sighed, exasperated, and collapsed into her armchair. "Why do Men not listen? They think that just by putting their ignorant heads together that they will get their way."

Thorin shook his head and sat opposite her. "I would not worry yourself, Dis. This is a young kingdom, and these troubles will be sorted out."

"Can't you get Southrons to sort out the uprising?" she asked, her voice tense. Her hands curled into fists. "I would. I'd teach them that I was the king under the mountain and could employ who I like."

"Yes, I can," Thorin said, patting his sister's hand until it relaxed. "And I will if the uprising lasts. It will be trouble and expense, but I will do it rather than give in."

Dis nodded and reached for the unsent invitations that sat on the table next to her. "If there is to be an extra expense then I am sorry we are giving a feast this year," she mumbled.

"We should go on as before," Thorin said as he put his forehead against his sister's. "No more, no less."

With that, he stood and left the room.

ooo

In his arms, Bilbo had gathered a small collection of suits that were neither particularly fine nor particularly hobbitish. He had bought them cheaply (as that was all he could afford) from a Dale vendor who had assured him they were dwarvish fashion, and as such they were not to Bilbo's tastes at all. Yet, if he was to be the dinner guest of the king beneath the mountain, he supposed he had better dress the part.

"Mother!" he called as he entered the house with the suits. "Surely one of these will do for Thorin's celebration?"

He turned the corner into the sitting room, and there was Gandalf standing in the middle of it with Belladonna and Bungo in their chairs on either side of him. Bilbo had not seen the wizard for some months. "Gandalf!" he said, setting the suits in his armchair. "You've returned at last."

"Yes, it seems so," Gandalf said with a chuckle. "With all of this uprising business in Dale, I supposed I had better."

Bilbo furrowed his brows. "Surely not. We're not even certain there will be an uprising. Are we, mother?"

Belladonna tsked and shook her head. "I don't know," she answered. "It seems to me that the dwarves and the men will never see eye to eye, stature aside. In my teaching capacity, I've met many Men of Dale. They have some dreadful tales, and they speak from the heart. They have logical arguments for an uprising. You know, they suffered a pay cut soon after the kingdoms were established, and they never got back to those wages. All the while, the price for dwarven goods gets higher all the time. But then Thorin comes to visit, and he answers my questions. He puts the dwarven side of things so eloquently, one doesn't know what to think."

"I beg your pardon," Bilbo grumbled. "But one knows exactly what to think. I'm sure Thorin Oakenshield puts his own side very eloquently indeed."

Gandalf gave Bilbo an amused look as the hobbit took his seat with the suits across his lap.

"I am surprised the royal family is throwing a feast with all of the trouble looming," Belladonna mused.

"Ah, the royal family of Erebor has always given a feast with the changing of the seasons," Gandalf explained. "The feast of Durin's Day is the greatest of all, and even greater when it is given by Princess Dis. No Man could stop her from doing anything she put her mind to."

Bilbo smiled. "Now, that is very true."

Belladonna leaned forward, beaming. "You know, Gandalf, Bilbo has made friends of King Bard and his family."

"Oh really? Good gracious me," Gandalf said. His smile was almost smug as he whipped out his pipe and his weed pouch. "Hobbits! What extraordinary creatures."


	7. Chapter 7

It was not long before word got out: Thorin had rejected the Men's demands. But it had been expected all along. At the end of the week, the tradesmen and merchants left the mountain. The bargemen rowed back to shore and did not get back onto the water again. Every Man went back to his home, and a quiet fell over the East. Thorin could be seen on the balcony above the Doors watching them go. Somewhere inside the Mountain, Dis was grimacing and staring into the distance.

All of the Mountain and Dale seemed to have taken in a deep breath without ever releasing it. It stayed this way for weeks.

Bilbo stayed indoors for much of it. There were letters to be written.

_Dearest Primula,_

_I am sorry to have taken so long to reply to your last letter when you were asking what color would suit the baby best. For dark hair and bright blue eyes, I have always thought green to be quite cheerful. And when he gets older, do make certain he has some lovely deep red and purple colors. Of course, I am sure the little chap will look splendid in whatever you choose. I do so long to meet my little cousin, and yes of course I shall be his godfather. Give Frodo my love, and give Drogo a congratulatory clap on the back. He will understand it to be from me._

_I do feel badly about not writing, but I have been busy. It's strange, for the rest of Dale is not at work. The tradesmen and merchants have been in neither street nor shop for some weeks, and it is all so quiet. It's unnerving if you ask me. Now, you will call me cracked, I know. But I have grown used to Dale's business._

_People are trying to scrape what living they can, but all around there is desperation. Both Men and Dwarves are holding fast to their positions. Neither will give way, and no one can say how long the uprising will last. We do what little we can. I feel guilty that we do not go hungry and helpless in the face of so much suffering._

Bilbo cast away his quill, splattering ink across the desk, and he looked out the window to the bare streets of Dale. How he wished for better things to write about. In Hobbiton, Primula had a new baby, the crops were coming in, the grass was green again. _Confound mother for bringing us here,_ he thought bitterly. But no, that wasn't fair, and he knew it. If he cared less about the Men of Dale, things would be easier, but he couldn't make himself care less.

He needed to stretch. He needed to stand up and get out of the house. On the skyline of Dale, the Golden Dragon rose above the rest of the rooftops. How long had it been since he'd visited Sigrid? He made up a basket to take to her. Then he made another one to take to the hungry families that would have doubtless gathered for their rations. Rations that Bard (Bilbo guessed) would soon no longer be able to give.

In the Great House, he passed by a room with the door ajar and a raised, sobbing voice flowing out of it. Bilbo crept to peek inside. There was Binur, pacing in front of a stoic Bard. "My wife!" the dwarrow said. "She's just sinking away, and she can't stand the sight of her bairns starving. She'll be dead before we get the wages raised or the tribute lowered. I hate you! You and every Man who started this uprising! Two weeks. Two weeks you said, and it's been twice as long as that! My bairns are lying in their beds, too hungry to cry!"

"What would you have me do Binur?" Bard said, and he went to the rations closet and pulled out two packs. "There are a hundred like you. But I promised I would take care of you, and I pledge my heart and soul that we will win."

He handed the rations to Binur, and the dwarf accepted them, but he was still angry. "You expect us to watch our children starve ere we dare go against your uprising. You've no more pity for us than the dragon did." With this said, Binur stormed out of the room, paying Bilbo no heed.

Yet, Bard noticed the hobbit standing there. "Master Baggins," he said, gesturing for Bilbo to come in. His voice was tired, but he smiled. "Come to visit Sigrid, I guess. She's a bit down today. The uprising has been going on for too long."

Sigrid entered from the other door. "Do you blame me?" she asked. "What about poor Binur?"

"I can take a basket to him," Bilbo volunteered. He felt useless, knowing that baskets were the only good he could do.

Still, Sigrid nodded. "He's got less spirit than father and more mouths to feed. The Dwarf Lords are beginning to try anything to get their workers back. How are you going to stop them from working while you stay out?"

Bard began to pace. "We'll be persuasive."

"In the Shire, if the field laborers held an uprising, the seed would not be sown and there'd be no harvest," Bilbo said.

Bard looked at Bilbo expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

"Well," Bilbo continued after clearing his throat. "What would become of the farms?"

Bard towered over Bilbo, and it was the first time the hobbit had ever seen the King of Dale look so angry. "The farmers would have to give them up, or maybe they could pay a fair wage for once!"

Bilbo stood his ground, though he couldn't believe he found himself arguing in Thorin Oakenshield's favor. "Suppose they couldn't even if they wished to. Then they'd have no mushrooms to sell and no wages to pay the next year."

Bard folded his arms over his chest. "I don't know about the Shire. I hear hobbits are quite relaxed there."

As Bard spoke, Sigrid began to cough again. She had been taking to coughing fits more and more of late. Bard went to pat her back and hold his daughter against his chest.

At length, Bilbo spoke again. "I'm sure I'm very ignorant," he said. "But surely the dwarves would not withhold pay for no reason."

Bard looked sharply at Bilbo. "You're a foreigner. You know nothing. And a curse on Thorin Oakenshield. A curse on all dwarves and their stiff necks!"

"Is Thorin as bad as the rest of the dwarf lords?" Bilbo blurted out.

"He's a fighter. Fierce as a warg."

"He's better-looking, surely, than a warg," Bilbo said, rolling his eyes. This elicited a quiet laugh from Sigrid.

Bard had calmed considerably. "He'll stick to his word, I will give him that. He's worth fighting with. That's the best I'll say for him. I'll not argue with you, Master Baggins." With a bow, Bard left the room.

Once he had been gone a while, Sigrid spoke. "He doesn't mean to shout," she said. "He's all nerves at the moment. I think he's worried he won't be able to keep the uprising together. There are a lot of men, and not all of them have the same discipline as father."

Bilbo nodded and found that he was not sure what outcome of the uprising would be best.

ooo

The dinner table of Thorin Oakenshield was laid with plates of gold and candlesticks carved of the largest diamonds that Bilbo had seen. Arrangements of false flowers made of tourmaline, emeralds, and opals with silver stems and leaves adorned the table. Though they were beautiful, Bilbo could not help but wish for some real flowers. There was a heaviness to these that made his heart sag. The pale, silver-green jacket he had chosen for the Feast was in contrast with the rich jewel tones surrounding him, and once again he felt as though he were on the outside of the East looking in.

"Princess Dis!" Belladonna's voice broke through Bilbo's reverie, and he looked up in time to see the princess approaching to greet them.

Dis bowed. "Mistress Baggins, I hope it is silent enough for you tonight. The Men have been so good as to leave the mountain for the time being. So, all is quiet for our feast."

Bilbo and Belladonna both bowed as Dis left, but they kept silent. The Princess's ironic sense of humor was quite lost on them. Fili and Kili followed close behind their mother, and they greeted the two hobbits.

"We were very sad to hear that the elder Mister Baggins would not be joining us," Fili said politely.

"Yes, we heard he was ill," Kili said. Fili shot him a glare.

Bilbo shook his head. "It's nothing serious, I'm sure," he said, but he found he did not believe his own words. Bungo had been declining. It would not be long before they would need to summon Oin to tend to him. "He is only a little tired."

Kili paused and turned his eyes upward in thought. "I wonder," he said. "I wonder what Elvish medicine might do for him."

Bilbo's eyes widened slightly, and his curiosity overtook him. "What do you know of Elvish medicine, your highness?"

Kili tensed, and Fili answered in his stead. "Kili was healed by Elvish medicine on the Quest to reclaim the mountain," he said, providing no further explanation.

"And yet," Kili sighed. "Relations with the Elves have never been worse."

In the silence that followed, Bilbo found his eyes drawn away by Thorin who was dressed more finely than Bilbo had ever seen in a Durin blue tunic lined with fur. The king crossed the room to speak to Gandalf, and Bilbo's keen ears picked up the conversation.

"Ah, Thorin," Gandalf said. "I took the liberty of inviting myself, knowing the princess's hospitality."

Thorin nodded to Gandalf. "I hope you are not concerned about the uprising. We dwarves will survive as we always have."

"I have faith in you, Thorin," Gandalf replied. "Yet, in the present situation-"

"It's nothing I can't handle."

Gandalf nodded. "Of course. Though you cannot presume to be all-knowing, you often have a good head for this sort of thing. Do you know Dain's representative? This is Las, daughter of Timor of the Iron Hills."

For the first time, Bilbo noticed a dwarrowdam standing near Gandalf. Her hair and beard were lucky yellow and she was clad in a deep violet embroidered with gold. She was the image of an ideal dwarrowdam. Bilbo did not know why his stomach churned when Thorin took her hand and bowed to her.

A dwarf that Bilbo did not know came up to Thorin's elbow and whispered in his ear. "Thorin, who is that fine halfling standing over there?"

Bilbo could not help but feel a little smug at being described as fine. So, when Thorin met his eyes across the room, he smiled. And he continued to smile as Thorin walked over to him.

The king's smile when Bilbo held out his arm was almost warm. He grasped Bilbo's arm, and Bilbo could feel his strong fingers through the sleeve of his jacket. Bilbo laid his spare hand over Thorin's. "You see, your majesty," he said. "I am learning the ways of Erebor."

Thorin nodded. "I am sorry your father was unable to join us." It was only then that Thorin drew his arm away from Bilbo's grasp. Bilbo felt a burst of some curious and unfamiliar feeling bloom in his stomach.

Whatever had bloomed up, however, was quickly trimmed down when a dwarf that Belladonna had named as Balin approached from behind Thorin. "Thorin, I must speak to you."

Thorin's smile fell, and he bowed to Bilbo. "Excuse me."

Balin drew the king off to a quiet corner of the room, and Bilbo could not help but listen to the conversation.

"Have you left word with Dwalin?" Balin asked.

"It's been done," Thorin confirmed.

"And the army is ready?"

"All of those arrangements have been made."

Balin sighed and shook his head. "If the men discover you are bringing in Southron workers..."

Thorin gripped Balin's shoulder. "It is my duty as king under the mountain to protect my people from violence. No harm will come to any dwarrow here nor to any Southron I employ."

Balin was silent, but then he nodded. "I sincerely hope so, lad."

So intrigued was Bilbo by this exchange that he had not noticed Gandalf come up behind him. "Well," the wizard said, making Bilbo jump around. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear Bilbo. Thorin is most ungallant this evening, leaving his most extraordinary guest to talk business with his advisors. Come with me, Bilbo. Let's see who I might introduce you to."

As Gandalf led Bilbo away, the hobbit chanced a glance backward at Thorin and found that the king's eyes were, once again, following him.


	8. Chapter 8

Of all those at the dinner table, Gandalf had been over the wide world more than anybody. As such, he became the voice for all the news that the dwarves wished to hear. "Yes, yes," he was saying. "Many of Durin's folk have left the Blue Mountains since Erebor was reclaimed. You know, of course, of the great migration here. But there are also many who are going to the Iron Hills to Dain's kingdom."

"Imagine if we packed up and went to the Iron Hills," Balin laughed. "The Men would have no work at all then."

"Well, Master Balin," Gandalf said. "They have no work at the present, either."

"There is work," Gloin responded. "But they choose not to do it! What do you think, Thorin?"

Thorin put on a smile that seemed forced. "Oh, I think the wizard is up to his old tricks. He is playing with words at the expense of those simpler than himself."

"Perhaps I would not if Master Balin and Master Gloin did not make it so simple to do so," Gandalf replied with a nod to Thorin. Bilbo smiled.

"But it is a good question," Thorin continued. "I do not want to go to the Iron Hills, but others should if they find they cannot prosper here."

"What do you think, Mr. Baggins?" Fili asked, drawing Bilbo's gaze away from the king. "Do you approve of the uprising?"

"Well, no," Bilbo answered after a pause. "And yes. It is surely good to see both sides of the question." This earned him a smile from Gandalf and a thoughtful look from Thorin.

Fili nodded. "I thought I saw you take a basket to the Great House of Dale the other afternoon."

Had Fili been around then? Bilbo certainly had not noticed him. Perhaps his eyes were less keen than he thought. "I am good friends with the Princess Sigrid," he explained.

Fili smiled, but some of the other dwarves looked enraged. "Princess Sigrid, the daughter of King Bard?" they said. "He has been the instigator of this uprising from the start. A dangerous firebrand!"

Dis' voice rose above the rest, and all others quieted. "I am surprised that you keep such company, Mr. Baggins."

Bilbo raised his chin. "As I said before, Princess Sigrid is my friend. Bard is a little-"

"First name terms with the King of Dale!" Dori cried.

Bilbo shot Dori an annoyed look. "Well, his majesty King Bard has been made a little wild from the circumstances. But he speaks from the heart."

"Well," Balin said. "If he's so determined, I'm surprised he'll accept charity."

"He doesn't for himself," Bilbo explained. "The basket was for one whose six children were starving."

"Ah," Gloin said. "Then perhaps he ought to go back to work."

There were murmurs of assent around the table.

Gandalf spoke up. "I believe this starving fellow once worked at the royal forges, did he not, Bilbo?"

There was a long silence around the table, and Bilbo could feel the king's eyes on him. He made a point of not returning the gaze. Still, Thorin spoke. "You do this person, whoever he is, more harm than good with your basket. One could say that the longer you support the uprisers, the more you prolong the uprising. That is not kindness, Mr. Baggins, whatever you may say. Their inevitable defeat will only take longer, and their suffering will be prolonged." This speech earned Thorin applause around the table.

Bilbo remained stone-faced, and now he did fix Thorin's gaze with his own. "But surely to give a dying baby food is not a question of logic."

Thorin's eyes lowered.

"Well," Belladonna spoke up, hoping to ease some tension. "I must say, I've never seen jewel arrangements like these. I don't believe I've seen finer decorations even in my father Old Took's grandest parties."

No one responded. Dis was pale and her lips were pressed in a thin line.

ooo

Gandalf escorted Bilbo and Belladonna home that evening, but as the small party entered the house, a dwarf left it. He gave them a wary look and a small bow before retreating back in the direction of the mountain. Belladonna thought it curious, but entertained the notion that Bungo had finally made some dwarven friends and went to bed without thinking much of it.

Bilbo, however, stayed with Gandalf in the kitchen. "Who was that?" he asked in a low voice.

"Who was who?" Gandalf asked absently.

Bilbo huffed. He was not in the mood for wizard games. "Gandalf."

Gandalf considered him a moment. "That was Oin."

"Oin the physician?" Bilbo asked. "For father?"

"I am sure he was just making his usual visit."

"Usual visit!" Bilbo cried. "How often has he been coming here?"

When Gandalf took out his pipe and refused to answer, Bilbo rushed to his Father's room and stopped in the doorway. There was his father, asleep on his sofa with his chin on his chest. Bungo's nearly ancient face did not seem so lined when he was like this, and he did not bear the troubles he bore in wakefulness Since they had left the Shire, Bilbo hadn't seen his father like this.

He did not know what woke his father up, but after a moment Bungo's eyelids fluttered and he opened them. "Bilbo, my lad?" he said, squinting at his son's silhouette in the doorway. "What are you doing lingering there?"

Bilbo swallowed past a lump that had formed in his throat and walked over to take his father's hand.

"Oh, now," Bungo said gently. "What's this sad face for?"

Bilbo didn't answer.

Bungo lowered his head and brought it up again. "Gandalf told you I was ill, didn't he?" he said. Bilbo was angry enough at the wizard for keeping secrets that he did not feel the need to take away his guilt. "But he promised he wouldn't. After all, it was he who said you shouldn't be told."

Now, Bilbo grew very cross. "What does Gandalf know? He's only a wizard. I'm your son."

"Shush, I don't want your mother to hear," Bungo said, glancing at the door that connected their rooms. "Don't be angry at Gandalf. He cares for us."

Bilbo sighed. "No, I'll try not to."

Bungo closed his eyes. "I keep thinking about Hobbiton. How I used to complain about it sometimes and want to leave. And now I'll never see it again. That's my punishment." Then Bungo began to cry, and he covered his face with his hands. "Oh, Bilbo, it's so hard!"

Gandalf must have heard Bungo crying, for he came in suddenly and patted the elder hobbit's shoulder. "There there, Bungo," he said quietly.

Later, when Bungo was asleep again, Bilbo and Gandalf found themselves once more in the kitchen. Bilbo had made them both some tea to help them relax, but Bilbo's cup had gone mostly untouched.

"There," Gandalf said. "Now you know, dear Bilbo. And now you'll worry before you should. You'll tell Belladonna too, I guess, and I shall have the whole Baggins family to deal with." Gandalf's words were detached, but his voice was filled with sympathy.

"No, I won't tell mother," Bilbo said, clasping his hands on the table. "I can bear it better than her."

"So I see!" Gandalf sighed. "I've known for some time how ill he is. And, though I don't pretend to love him as you do, I do love your father. Now, your mother is an adventurer and always has been. It is from her that you get the courage to speak your mind to the king under the mountain. But if you had not had your father... He has always valued the small, everyday comings and goings of life. He taught you to have a deep care for others. What good is it to stand up to a king if you do not do it for the love in your heart or for the sake of others? Belladonna has shown you what to do, but Bungo made you who you are. I, for one, shall always be grateful for it."

"So shall I," Bilbo answered, his voice breaking. "I am sorry I was so cross with you before Gandalf."

Gandalf smiled. "Dear Bilbo, you know I don't mind at all. It's good to see that no matter how much love you have, you still have the nerve to be cross with a wizard." With this, he stood, patted Bilbo's hands and left.

In Bilbo's room, there was a raven perched on the windowsill, and as Bilbo neared it, it did not fly away. Tentatively, he reached out his hand, and the raven seemed to duck under it to allow Bilbo to stroke its feathers. "It's a dreadful business," Bilbo said. He was not sure who he was speaking to. "Prince Kili says that father might try Elvish medicine. If he knows how to get it, he's welcome to try."

The raven flew away, and Bilbo sighed and went to bed.

ooo

The next morning, Bilbo went to the doors of the mountain. The entire trip from his front door to the foot of the mountain, he did not encounter a living soul. The mountain doors were shut until Bilbo approached, and even when they opened, it was only a little bit.

Dwalin poked his head out and sighed. "Ah, it's you, Mr. Baggins." He shifted to allow Bilbo inside, and the doors shut swiftly behind them. "Did you see anyone in the street?"

"No," Bilbo said. "That's very odd, isn't it? Where is everyone?"

"I think we'll know soon enough," Dwalin said. "Best get inside the palace, Mr. Baggins, and bolt the door behind you."

Dwalin's instructions unnerved Bilbo, but he did as he was told. From a balcony, he saw Thorin at the mountain doors, locking them up with a key. Kili and Fili both strode into the sitting room equipped for battle.

"Amad will be here in a moment, Mr. Baggins," Fili said with a bow. "She sent us to apologize."

"It seems Uncle has brought in Southrons," Kili explained further. "They are all huddled in the mountain."

Southrons... They had always been a threat to the uprisings. Now, they were a reality. "Why are they in here instead of working?" Bilbo asked.

"They're frightened," Kili said. "The uprisers have frightened them so that they won't dare work. And we won't dare let them out."

Bilbo shook his head. "Poor things..."

"Amad is seeing to their food and trying to calm them down," Fili said. "Some of them are begging to go back to the far east. Ah, here she is!"

As Fili said it, Dis entered looking more distressed than Bilbo had ever seen her. If he thought she had looked pale at the feast, he was mistaken. He bowed low to her. "Excuse me, your highness," he said. "I'm sorry to bother you at such a time. My father is... Kili mentioned something about Elvish medicine?"

The sound of a large crowd came muffled through the walls of the palace, and Dis wasted no time in turning on her heel and going up a long staircase. Bilbo followed her along with Fili and Kili, and before long, they had come to the doorway to the balcony above the doors. Still, inside the mountain, Thorin had put on a mithril shirt and tied Orcrist around his waist.

Fili and Kili stepped forward at the sight of their king in armor and knelt before him.

"None of that," he said sharply but not unkindly. "Go to Dwalin. He'll order you."

Bilbo slipped past to a place where he could stay inside the mountain but still see the commotion. A mob of hundreds of angry men had gathered before the doors, demanding to be let in. The clamor was so loud, Bilbo could not hear himself think.

"Mr. Baggins!" Dis called him.

Bilbo looked over his shoulder just as Thorin rushed to him. "I'm sorry you have visited us at this unfortunate moment, Bilbo," Thorin said, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Bilbo looked up at him and found he had no words. But looking down at the faces in the crowd, he saw Binur there shouting along with the men. That he could remark on. "It's Binur," Bilbo gasped.

"Let them yell," Thorin said, out of breath. "Keep up your courage for a few moments longer, Mr. Baggins."

Bilbo was taken aback. "I'm not afraid! But can't you pacify them?"

"The army will make them see reason."

"Reason?" Bilbo said, turning back to Thorin and staring him in the eye. "What kind of reason? Thorin Oakenshield, go out this instant and face them like a king! Speak to them as equals! They're driven mad with hunger; their children are starving! They don't know what they're doing. At the very least, save your innocent Southrons!"

Thorin furrowed his brows, but without another word, he walked out onto the balcony to face the Men.

"Take care, Thorin!" Bilbo called after him.

The shouting only grew worse as Thorin folded his arms over his chest and stared down at the Men without saying a word. Bilbo watched as Binur reached down to pick up a large stone. What purpose would he have with it other than to attack Thorin? With a gasp, Bilbo ran onto the balcony to stand in front of the king. "For goodness' sake, stop!" Bilbo cried to the mob as Thorin stepped beside him. "Think of what you are doing! He is only one dwarf, and you are many Men. Go home! The army is coming. Go in peace! You will have an answer to your complaints."

The words had scarcely left Bilbo when a Man cried, "Will you send the Southrons home?"

"Never!" came Thorin's angry response, and the crowd erupted with newfound vehemence.

Thorin gripped Bilbo's arms with strong fingers. "Go inside," he instructed. "This is no place for a hobbit!"

"They will not want to hurt a hobbit!" Bilbo argued, and he put his arms around Thorin to shield him.

Thorin then put his arms around Bilbo's waist to tried to move him away. "Go inside, or I will take you myself!"

The last sight Bilbo saw was the fear in Thorin's eyes before Binur's stone hit his head, and he remembered no more.


	9. Chapter 9

The mob had gone quiet, and Thorin knelt, holding Bilbo's limp body encircled in his arms. The hobbit was like dead on his shoulder Blood was trickling down Bilbo's temple, and Thorin moved his hand. What did he mean to do? There was much that he dare not do. He settled for brushing Bilbo's auburn hair away from the blood, and tracing his fingers down to Bilbo's neck to feel for a pulse.

Still alive. Thorin closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief through his nose. Then, anger flared up in him, and he stood to turn on the mob. "Are you satisfied? You came here for me, so kill me if that's what you want!" He stood there with arms outstretched.

The battle horn blew, and the army charged out of the mountain. The crowd scattered like a flock of birds. The soldiers were under orders to kill none, but it would not stop them from injuring.

Thorin scooped Bilbo up into his arms, and carrying him, he darted into the sitting room in the palace. Dis was on his heels.

"What should be done?" she questioned, as Thorin laid the hobbit carefully on the sofa and knelt by him.

"One of us should get Oin," he said after a moment.

Dis nodded. "I'll go," she said. "Thorin, you should go to check on the Southrons. The army has the rioters well in hand, and you look paler and sterner than usual."

Thorin nodded, and Dis left. But Thorin stayed by Bilbo's side. When he was certain he was alone, he reached out to brush back the rest of Bilbo's hair from his forehead. "Can you rest here? And will you be here when I return?" Thorin questioned in a low voice that was more mumbling than words. "Live until then, and I will be at your service, Mr. Baggins. I do not envy your mother's wrath. I am already a poor enough student of Elvish."

Bilbo, naturally, did not answer. With a sigh, Thorin stood and looked down on Bilbo's pale, dead face. The sense of what the hobbit was to him came upon him so keenly, that he spoke out in pain: "Bilbo- My Bilbo, no one can tell what you are to me. My One is lying there as cold as death!"

When he turned on his heel to leave, he noted that all of the blood had rushed into his heart, and he was trembling. He went as if there were weights tied to every limb that bore him away from the hobbit.

ooo

Kili and Fili came into the sitting room when the rioters were scattered, and there they found Bilbo still unconscious.

"Is he dead?" Kili asked in a panic.

"He's still breathing," Fili noted. "But that is a nasty gash on his head."

Kili nodded. "He may need Elvish medicine," he mused. Then, after looking around, he asked, "Where is Amad?"

"Likely gone to get Oin," Fili said after a sigh. "Not everyone needs Elvish medicine, Kee. And we all know it's an excuse."

Kili folded his arms. "And excuse for what?" he asked, trying hard to hide his nerves.

"Well, have you heard from her lately?" Fili snapped.

Kili lowered his eyes before returning them to his brother with a glare. "Well, have you heard from your human princess lately? You ought to ask her if she knew rioters were coming."

Fili bristled and took an offensive step forward before Dis walked into the sitting room with Oin on her heels.

"Amad, what happened to Mr. Baggins?" Kili asked as Oin went to tend the hobbit.

"Mr. Baggins clung onto your uncle at the wrong time," Dis explained. "I thought I was sure of his intentions before, but now I know."

Then, slowly, slowly, Bilbo opened his eyes. "Oin?" he said, confused. "I was sure I heard... Nevermind. I don't need a physician." All this he said, struggling to sit up.

"We'll see to that, Mr. Baggins," Dis said. "What do you think, Oin?"

"I'm quite well!" Bilbo insisted. "I want to go home."

Oin hummed. "Let me see your eyes, Mr. Baggins. Well, the gash looks worse than it is. It seems there's no concussion, but you've had quite a blow. You had better rest here for now."

Bilbo stood up and teetered a little before straightening himself. "No, my father is unwell. He must not be alarmed. If he hears of this... I will go now."

"Surely not, Oin!" Dis said.

Oin shook his head. "He must be allowed to do as he will. I can escort him there and see that he reaches home safely. The streets of Dale are still very noisy."

Dis considered Bilbo a moment with a worried look before closing her eyes. "Very well."

ooo

Bilbo had not been gone five minutes when Thorin came in, his face all a-glow, but there was no Bilbo to be seen. "Where is Mr. Baggins?" he asked Dis.

"He has gone home," Dis answered.

Thorin furrowed his brows. "Gone home? That is not possible."

Dis sighed. "Really, Thorin, he was quite well."

Thorin strode over to his sister. "Dis, he took a terrible blow. What were you thinking by letting him go home?"

"Everything was done properly," Dis argued, her voice low and warning. "I went for Oin myself. And I'm sure it's not possible to keep such a headstrong hobbit anywhere he does not want to be. He's a reckless hobbit."

Thorin heaved a deep sigh and went for his cloak.

"Where are you going?" Dis asked.

"To see if Mr. Baggins is well," he answered, his voice close to shaking. He began to walk to the door.

Dis was exasperated. "I sent him home with Oin as protection. Everything was done properly! Thorin!"

His sister's cry was so desperate that Thorin stopped.

"I'm asking you not to go," Dis said quietly.

ooo

Bilbo was back home, tending his father in the sitting room when Princess Tilda burst through the door weeping.

"Tilda!" Bilbo exclaimed. "What's all this?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Baggins," she sobbed. "I didn't know what else to do. Sigrid has become so very ill!"

Bilbo wasted no time in putting on his jacket and following the young princess to the Great House.

Sigrid was, indeed, in a very bad way when Bilbo came into her room. There was no color in her face, and her breathing was shallow. It looked to be a miracle that she was sitting up in her bed at all.

"Bilbo," she said in a hoarse voice, and she reached out for him.

"Dear Sigrid," Bilbo said, moving to sit by her and pat her back. "Dear young woman, I'll be sure you get better."

Sigrid buried her face in Bilbo's shoulder and cried.

ooo

Thorin traveled through the whole of the mountain before returning to the palace late at night. Dis was still awake and sitting at the table, busy with the tapestry. It was a family tapestry, tracing the line of Durin.

"Still up?" Thorin asked. "I thought you would be exhausted."

"Why should I be?" Dis asked coldly. "Where have you been?"

Thorin hung up his cloak. "Just walking."

"Where have you been walking?"

Thorin raised his brows. "I promised you I would not go there, and I did not."

"But?"

"But," Thorin sighed. He moved to sit adjacent to her. "Dis, you know I will have to go there tomorrow, and you know what I will have to say."

Dis swallowed. "Yes. You could hardly do otherwise."

Thorin paused. "What do you mean?"

Dis caught Thorin in her gaze. "I mean that you are bound in honor as he has shown his feelings for the whole world to see."

"His feelings?"

"He rushed out in front of an angry mob and saved you from danger!" Dis said. "Or are you telling me I imagined that?"

Thorin lowered his head. "He did save me," he said, his voice low. "But, Dis, I dare not think that such a one could care for me."

"Oh, don't be foolish," Dis said. "What more proof do you need than a hobbit behaving so recklessly?"

Thorin shut his mouth, and Dis put her forehead against his. "I'm sure he will take you," she said. "That is why I didn't want you to go. I wanted another day of you just being my brother. I suppose I shall have to add him to the tapestry."

"I know he does not care for me," Thorin said. "But he is my One, and I cannot remain silent. I must ask him."

Dis smiled. "Don't be afraid, Thorin. He has admitted it to the world. I may even learn to like him for it. It must have taken him a great deal to overcome his pride."

ooo

_Dear Bilbo,_

_If only Aunt Belladonna would bring you all home, you wouldn't have to witness such suffering. As for feeling guilty, Bilbo, surely you have nothing to reproach yourself for. The uprisers chose their own actions, and I'm sure you did your best to help. Since I was a little girl, I have always admired you for doing the right thing._

Bilbo smiled at Primula's letter, but he could not help but feel her compliments were a little misplaced.

Belladonna came to Bilbo's door. "King Thorin is here to see you," she said. "He's waiting in the parlor."

Bilbo nodded and put the letter down on his bed.

In the parlor, Thorin was standing looking out the window. He turned and offered Bilbo a smile when he walked in. "Mr. Baggins," he said, walking away from the window and bowing. "I'm afraid I was very ungrateful yesterday."

Bilbo stared dumbfounded. "You have nothing to be grateful for."

"I think that I do."

"Why, I did only the least that anyone would've," Bilbo said with a shrug.

Thorin furrowed his brows. "That cannot be true." He seemed even stiffer than usual.

Bilbo paced across the room. "Well, I was, after all, responsible for putting you in danger. I would have done the same for anyone there."

Thorin tilted his head. "Anyone? So, you approve of that violence? You think you got what I deserved?"

"Oh no!" Bilbo said. "Of course not. But they were desperate. I know that if you were to talk to them-"

"I forgot," Thorin interrupted. "You imagine them to be your friends."

Bilbo sighed and walked close to Thorin. "But if you were to be reasonable..."

"Are you saying I'm unreasonable?"

Bilbo started again. "If you would talk with them and not set soldiers on them. I know-"

"They will get what they deserve," he said. Then he paused and moved closer, speaking slowly. "Mr. Baggins, I did not just come here to thank you. I came because... I think it very likely... I know I've never found myself in this position before. It's difficult to find the words. Especially in Westron. Mr. Baggins, my feelings for you are very strong."

A knot had been forming in Bilbo's stomach all the while Thorin had been talking. "Please stop!" Bilbo squeaked. "Please, don't go any further." He walked to the window.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please, don't continue in that way," Bilbo said sharply. "It is not befitting of your rank."

Thorin joined him at the window. "I am aware that you do not think me fit for my rank," Thorin said angrily. "But I think I deserve to know why I am offensive."

Bilbo squinted at Thorin. "It offends me that you speak to me as if it was your duty to rescue my reputation!"

Thorin raised his voice. "I spoke to you about my feelings because I love you! I had no thought of your reputation!"

Bilbo quirked a brow. "You think that because you are rich and we are not that you can have me for your possession? I suppose I should expect no less from a dwarf."

Thorin looked equal parts desperate and enraged. "I don't wish to possess you! I wish to marry you because I love you!"

"Well, you shouldn't!" Bilbo said, turning pointedly away. "I do not like you and never have."

Thorin beat his fist on the wall and went to stand over the fireplace. Bilbo wondered why he did not leave. Didn't Bilbo have enough to concern himself with without this outburst? Bungo was dying and so was...

"My friend Princess Sigrid is dying," Bilbo said, his voice shaking.

"And that, of course, is my fault, too?" Thorin said.

Bilbo did not know what to say to that. "I'm sorry," was all he could manage as he turned back to Thorin.

"For what?" Thorin snapped. "That you find my feelings for you offensive? Or that you assume that because I am a dwarf, I am only capable of thinking in terms of buying and selling? Or that I take pleasure in sending the people of Dale to an early grave?"

"No!" Bilbo said, walking to be close to him. "No, no, of course not. I'm sorry to be so blunt. I never learned how to refuse... how to respond when someone speaks to me as you've just done."

"Oh, there are others?" Thorin laughed bitterly. "This happens to you every day? Of course! You must have to disappoint so many that offer you their heart."

Bilbo shook his head. "No, please understand, Thorin-"

"I do understand," Thorin grumbled. He paused a moment to take in the desperation in Bilbo's eyes. "I understand you completely." Without another word, he brushed past Bilbo and left the house.

Bilbo lowered his head.


	10. Chapter 10

Thorin had left his gloves in the sitting room of the Bagginses house, and Bilbo tried to ignore the weight of them in the inside breast pocket of his jacket. He didn't know why he had picked them up and put them there. Certainly, if Thorin wanted them, he could remember where they were. Still, Bilbo had determined to return them the next time he saw the king - an event he looked at with dread.

But the moment wasn't about Thorin or what he'd said or even how Bilbo had responded. He was in the Great House of Dale, sitting on the edge of Sigrid's bed with an armful of Shire-made laces. The princess had been so sick of late - too sick to even leave her room. He thought the lace might cheer her.

Sure enough, the moment she saw them, her eyes sparkled and she laughed wickedly. "Oh, Mr. Baggins!" she said, picking up one extravagant piece and wrapping it over her head. "What am I ever to do with this nonsense?"

Bilbo reached for the lace on her head. "Oh, please, Sigrid," he said, trying to sound severe. It was nigh impossible. Her amusement was contagious. "Laces like these are the fashion in the Shire." Though perhaps they were more to Lobelia's tastes than his.

"Alright," she said. "I'll keep just this one. Only to look at."

Satisfied, Bilbo nodded and set the rest aside. "Where's your father?" he asked. "I didn't see him when I came in."

Joy left Sigrid's face. "Oh, he's been brought so low by the uprising ending as it must now, of course. Unless we want a war."

"Will all of the Men go back to work?"

Sigrid closed her eyes and nodded. "We've lost our spirit after the violence in front of the mountain. What were they thinking, throwing stones at a hobbit?"

Bilbo anxiously moved his hair to cover the scar on his temple. "It was not so bad."

"Well, it was enough!" Sigrid said and coughed once. "And Father's so angry with them all. So, he's either gone to deal with them or go and ponder what went wrong. I've never seen him this low, Bilbo. I'm worried about what might happen." Sigrid looked away from Bilbo, trying to hide the tears that had begun to leak out of her eyes.

Bilbo pulled her into a hug and held her as she cried.

ooo

True to Sigrid's word, the Men soon went back to work. The uprising was over. The dwarves had held their ground and won. The marketplaces of Erebor were once again filled with human mercenaries and the lake had bargemen and transporters at the ready.

Still, Thorin could not take joy in the returning sounds of the busy market or the energy of industry. Day by day he moved as though blind wherever he went, trying desperately to keep his pain out of the public eye. He spoke to none who called to him on the streets; and even in council, he was quieter than he had been before.

His change did not go unnoticed. Though he had not told his sister about what had transpired, Dis still spoke to him carefully as she worked on the tapestry, not daring to look up at him. "At least the mercenaries are back in the mountain."

Thorin nodded absently.

"And the Southrons?"

Thorin cleared his throat. "They are settled. They've had a good meal, and I sent for the wizard. He seemed to calm them down. I'll have to send them back home. I have workers clamoring to come back."

Dis scoffed. "It would serve them right if we kept the Southron workers..."

Thorin moved to put his hand on the back of Dis' chair. "By the way," he said, "I was right, Dis. Mr. Baggins will not have me."

Dis looked up at him with equal parts shock and sympathy and seemed to be searching for the right words.

"It goes to show," he continued, "that I have never needed anyone's love but yours and Fili's and Kili's. None shall ever care for me as you." He did not mention, naturally, the deep wound that was buried in him. It was not unheard of for a dwarrow to be rejected by their One. Yet, it was always a sorry thing. He felt as though he was bleeding internally.

Still, Dis stood and put her forehead against her brother's. "The love of family holds fast and forever. A hobbit's love must be like a puff of smoke - changing with every wind."

Thorin would not meet her eyes. "I knew I wasn't good enough for him," he whispered. He could not hide the tremor in his voice. "And I think I love him more than ever."

Dis stepped back. "I hate him. I tried not to when I thought he would make you happy."

Meeting her eyes for but a second, Thorin turned away, shaking his head.

But Dis was not finished. "I would have given my life's blood for you to be so happy. Who is he that he dares to reject you?"

"No!" Thorin cried, his voice all but catching in his throat.

"It's no good, Thorin," she said. "Your sorrow is mine. And if you won't hate him then I must."

Thorin lowered his head. "He does not care for me, and that is enough. The only thing you can do for me is never say his name again. We will never talk of him again."

"With all my heart," Dis said through her teeth. "How I wish that he and his family would be swept back to the place they came from."

ooo

Gandalf came into the sitting room of the Bagginses house with a basket of cheery fruits, and Bilbo looked up from his book when the wizard announced that they were the compliments of Thorin Oakenshield.

"How kind of Mr. Oakenshield!" Bungo said, sitting up a little in his chair.

"Most splendid fruit I have seen in this part of the world," Gandalf agreed. "The best in the mountain, I shouldn't wonder."

"And a card," Bungo added, reaching for it. "Written in his own hand! He has always been most civil and thoughtful, but I wouldn't have thought he had the time. He's had so much trouble with the rioting." Then, he withdrew his handkerchief and began to cough violently.

Belladonna walked over to soothe him. "It shows his high regard for you, my dear," she said, rubbing her husband's arm.

Bilbo found he had a curiosity to read the note but quelled it.

When Bungo had finished coughing, he turned to Bilbo. "Bilbo, you must visit Erebor and ask after Princess Dis," Bungo instructed. "And thank King Thorin for his most generous gift."

Bilbo felt his heart surge. "I'm sure a note will do as well, Father," he said quickly.

Gandalf gave Bilbo a peculiar look. "I saw Thorin in the street today. He didn't seem quite so in control as usual."

"Really?" Bilbo squeaked.

"Yes, he seemed very distracted."

Bilbo nodded and took a deep breath before he stood. "Excuse me," he said and left the room.

When Bilbo was gone, Gandalf pulled Belladonna aside. "Has it ever occurred to you," he began in a low voice, "that there may be something between the king and your son?"

"Good heavens, no!" Belladonna answered. "Well... I suppose it's possible on Thorin's side, but for Bilbo, it's quite out of the question. I'm afraid he's never liked Thorin, poor fellow. I pray he doesn't get his hopes up."

The conversation ended there, but Gandalf still seemed deep in thought.

ooo

Binur had appeared at the Great House, on the run from Thorin's soldiers. It would appear that throwing stones at the king under the mountain and subsequently harming his guest demanded reparations. Now, he was desperate for King Bard to shelter him and bring his family into the house as well.

"Why should we hide you?" Bard asked him bitterly. "You have got a nerve."

"You wouldn't give me up," Binur challenged.

Bard grabbed the dwarf by his shirt. "Wouldn't I? What did you think you were doing? Violence at the mountain gates? Half killing a hobbit! A defenseless hobbit!"

Binur was trembling now. "It was Thorin's fault! He-"

Yet, Bard would not hear him. Releasing the dwarf, he said, "No violence! That was the iron rule! We are in the right, and we might have won. But you had to behave as a senseless, crazed animal! You want me to hide you from Thorin? He'll think I'm one of the ringleaders. I lead my people, and they trust me! They trust my word!"

Binur stumbled about the room. "You said the uprising would be two weeks, but it wasn't working! When was it going to end? It's alright for you! Your wife and children aren't starving."

"Neither would yours!" Bard said. "I gave you my word, and I keep my word."

Binur buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

"You could've been born with that mountain of gold at your fingertips, and it would not have made a difference," Bard said bitterly. "You would bring us all down. Your friends, your family, the uprising! I'll be telling the king's guard where you are."

Binur made a mad dash to the door. Still, Bard called after him. "I'm giving you up, Binur!"

ooo

Gandalf met Thorin in the streets of Dale as the king was overseeing the mercenary exchange. "I hear congratulations are in order for handling the uprising so masterfully," Gandalf said, a touch of irony in his voice. "I trust everything is back to normal?"

Thorin bowed. "You know as well as I that it is more complicated than that. It will take some time."

Gandalf's eyes wandered behind Thorin. "I did not realize that you were here with Timor and dear Lady Las." Even as he mentioned it, the two dwarrow in question came up behind Thorin to bow to Gandalf.

"Timor has been good enough to lend me insight to Dain's more nuanced business methods," Thorin explained.

Gandalf squinted. "I see."

Then, across the street, Bilbo came into view.

"Ah, Bilbo!" Gandalf called, waving him over. Thorin became visibly tense as Bilbo crossed the street over to them. "Well, would you look at this. What luck! You remember Timor and his daughter Las? Assisting Thorin with business, I understand."

Las did not view Bilbo very warmly, and Bilbo's smile was a thin line as he bowed.

"Now, where are you off to, Mr. Baggins?" Gandalf questioned.

Bilbo's eyes shifted. "Nowhere," he said.

"All right then, keep your secrets," Gandalf laughed. "Hobbits must have their secrets as much as wizards must. Isn't that one of the joys of life?"

Thorin had never looked grimmer when he said, "I wouldn't know. Good day." With that, he bowed, offered Lady Las his arm, and walked away. Bilbo's eyes followed them.

Timor was looking after them as well. "What's the point in training her in all the business of the Iron Hills if she's only going to run off and marry the king of Erebor?" he questioned with a laugh. He sounded rather confident as though the event was a sure thing. "Well, good day, Gandalf. Mr. Baggins."

Gandalf looked to Bilbo as Timor left. "I am sorry, dear Bilbo-"

"Gandalf," Bilbo interrupted. "I'm grateful for the friendship you give my mother. Goodness knows she's felt alone in Dale, but-"

"But you wish that I would mind my own business and stop being so very facetious," Gandalf finished. "Well, you're right, dear Bilbo. But I do take an interest, do you know? I should like to think if you were in need of help, I would be the first you called upon."

"You have my word, Gandalf," Bilbo answered with a smile and a nod. "You'll be the first."

Satisfied, Gandalf smiled and began to lead Bilbo away. Still, Bilbo could not help but give one look back to where Thorin was still walking away with Lady Las on his arm.


	11. Chapter 11

Thunder was beginning to stir in the distance when Bilbo walked into the study, surprised to find Belladonna there. "Mother!" he said. "You're back early."

Belladonna nodded and hit a letter against her palm. "Yes, well, one of my pupils canceled their appointment. I came back looking forward to Thorin's lesson only to discover that he also fears he may find himself too busy to read this evening."

Guilt swirled in Bilbo as he considered that it could very well be on his account that Thorin was not coming by the house. "It has been a busy few days," Bilbo noted assuring himself as well as Belladonna. "No doubt Thorin will resume his lessons when things quieten down."

Taking off her spectacles, Belladonna sighed. "No doubt, no doubt," she said and sighed in resignation. "Maybe I'll write him a little note of encouragement, hoping he can come later."

"Mother," he began slowly. "You still have regular lessons with the princes, don't you?"

"Well, yes," Belladonna confirmed. "Why?"

Bilbo rocked on his feet for a moment. "I was talking to Sigrid some time back," he explained. "She said something about Prince Kili and an Elf from Mirkwood."

Belladonna froze. "Why the sudden interest, my lad?"

When Bilbo didn't answer, the realization seemed to dawn on Belladonna. "Because of your father," she said. "You want Elvish medicine for him."

Bilbo nodded and Belladonna nodded back, crossing the room to sit at her desk and prop her elbows on the surface. Bilbo sat across from her. "Is it really so impossible?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, my dear," Belladonna sighed. "Thorin has a deep bitterness against the Elves and not without reason. They abandoned him in a time of need, you see. When the dragon attacked, they did not even offer the dwarves refuge. In turn, they are banned from coming near the mountain. Even Dale."

"But surely everything happened so long ago," Bilbo pointed out desperately.

"Not long enough," Belladonna said, shaking her head. "Thorin, at least, will neither forgive nor forget."

"But for father's sake, surely he'll-"

"No."

Bilbo buried his head in his hands. "Perhaps I had better just shut my mouth," he sighed. "I'm only getting hopes up for nothing."

Taking Bilbo's hands away from his face, Belladonna put hers on either side of her son's face. "No, no, my dear boy. It is always good to have hope. Having hope is a brave thing."

That night, Bilbo tried to pen a letter to Primula by candlelight.

_Dear Primula,_

_I hardly know how to begin. There are things I so want to talk to you about. I can't find the words..._

No, he could not find the words at all. He crumpled the parchment and threw it in the wastebasket.

ooo

The next morning, when he came to the Great House, no one was there. Tilda answered the door.

"I came for a chat with Sig-" Bilbo cut himself short when he noticed the poor girl's face. Red and blotchy with unwiped tears streaking down it.

She threw her arms around Bilbo and sobbed.

"Come now, my dear," he said, patting her back. "Show me what the matter is."

Tilda led Bilbo to Sigrid's bedroom where the princess was lying pale and still as death. There, kneeling by her and holding her limp hand against his forehead was Fili. The prince did not look up when Bilbo entered, but he must have heard him come in for he began to talk. "I want to be with her if she dies," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "I spent long enough making excuses and pretending I wasn't with her when I was. The least I can do is be here for her if she dies."

Bilbo shifted toward him. Tilda was still tucked under the hobbit's arm, refusing to move. "What's happened?"

"She fell away in a faint," Tilda sobbed. "Da and Bain are away, and I didn't know what to do. So I sent for him."

That was all very well, but Bilbo still confounded by the sight in front of him. How long had Fili and Sigrid been seeing each other in secret? "What can be done?"

"I don't even know what's wrong," Fili answered. His voice was trembling.

It was then that Bard came in the door, Bain at his heels. Both were silent as they moved into the room. At length, Bard spoke. "She wasn't in her office when we..." He cleared his throat. "She's not dead."

"No," Fili said. "No, not yet."

Bard nodded and moved to put a hand on Sigrid's head and stroke her hair. "This is not natural. Not right," he said. "No parent should have to bury their child," Then he collapsed onto his knees and began to sob.

Bain had begun to tremble and Bilbo brought him into his embrace with Tilda. The poor family. How difficult the past months had been! How he wished he could assure them that everything would soon be alright again and that Sigrid would not die. Alas, that he could do no such thing.

ooo

Fili and Bard were in the Bagginses home sometime later when Bilbo could convince them to come away and allow Sigrid space to breathe.

Fili's elbows were propped on the table, his face buried in his hands, his tea untouched. Belladonna and Bilbo sat across from him, unsure what gesture would be appropriate for a prince and a king. Unsure what would be appropriate for the grieving father and love of a dying woman.

"My poor Sigrid," Fili said at length. "She's had a hard life since before I met her. Hard work and illness. Being the princess of Dale couldn't help her at all."

Belladonna reached out to pat Fili's arm. "She may not have an easy life. Even if she survives this, it may not get any easier. But the Gift of Men is a Gift indeed. We may all take the comfort of knowing that we will find rest in the halls of our fathers. So will Sigrid if the time comes."

Fili looked up and around, and a bitter laugh escaped him. "I don't think Mahal meant all of this," he said.

"He gave you your life," Belladonna pointed out. "He gave you wits and intelligence to discover the grace and beauty in others. Others you may not have otherwise."

"Am I to believe that he gave me my One so I could watch her die?" Fili asked, growing agitated.

Now Bard spoke through his teeth. "It was your uncle who turned a blind eye to her people when she was in need."

Bilbo felt a painful twinge he didn't understand.

Belladonna spoke slowly and with great patience. "It is the duty of all Free People to make peace with others. It's a pity that you seem to think in terms of war and strife. I know there is suffering and tension, but surely it would be better for people of goodwill on both sides to sit down and share ideas of how to live together in peace and harmony. Don't you think your uncle would be open to ideas, Fili?"

"Thorin?" Bard said before Fili could speak. "He's the one who brought in the Southrons that led to the riot that ended the uprising."

Fili looked ready to jump out of his chair, but he stayed still in spite of his open hands turning to fists. "Take care how you speak of my uncle, Bard," Fili said. "He has promised not to pursue the rioters. Nor he that threw the stone."

"And so he leaves them to us to do with them as we will! He leaves them among us to cause such troubles again!"

"They will not get employment in the mountain," Fili said, his voice rising. "Is that not punishment enough?"

Bard now shot up from his chair. "I only wish that the King Under the Mountain showed more courage in these dealings!"

"Thorin was right, Bard!" This came from Bilbo. All turned to him as though they had not expected such a sentiment to come from the hobbit. In truth, Bilbo had not expected it himself. "I know you must be angry with Binur, but even you must see that Thorin taking any more action would look like revenge."

Bard sat down again and closed his eyes. "Poor Sigrid," he said. "She said the uprising would be the end of her, and it's my doing for trusting in Binur and the others."

"Not everyone is as strong as you, Bard," Bilbo said. "To last out the uprising for so long..."

Bard shook his head. "Those of the same standing must stand together. Men will cast out those that don't and pretend they don't exist. No one will look at or talk to Binur, you can be sure."

"That is the same kind of tyranny you are hoping to avoid, Bard," Bilbo pointed out, saddened and disturbed.

Bard stood again but calmed. "I have not forgotten who is lying at the point of death at home," he sighed. "Nor have I forgotten how much she loves you, Master Baggins. I shall say only this: our uprisings are indeed like wars. And with war comes some crime. But it would be a greater crime to do nothing."

Even Fili had no answer for him then. The young prince left before Bard, asking for discretion and receiving it from all.

Then, soon after, Bard made to leave. Bilbo took the king's hand while he was on the doorstep and shook it. "Take care of yourself Bard," he bade.

Bard nodded and was off.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo saw someone watching him. He turned to see Thorin staring after him in confusion. Bilbo was torn between calling out to him or leaving well enough alone. Thorin made the choice for him when his face grew stern, and he turned to walk away.

ooo

The next day, Gandalf was in the sitting room with Bungo serving him tea. He had been much more gentle with the "ridiculous hobbit" of late, and it made Bilbo smile to see it.

"Ah, Bilbo!" Gandalf said. "Doesn't your father look well today? He has done a little woodcarving and read all of his letters."

"They are the same as always," Bungo sighed. "Mostly from the dear Brandybucks and not very entertaining. But Gandalf has been telling me some tales."

Bilbo quirked a brow. It was unlike Bungo to be all too interested in tales. "Has he indeed?"

"Just the odd bit about Gondor," Gandalf said. "There is to be a festival held there soon, and I shall be off to attend it. Bungo has taken an interest."

Bilbo gave his father a sharp look.

"Oh, come now, my lad," Bungo sighed. "I know that I shouldn't go. But you could go, Bilbo. It does sound exciting. It's sure to have great bears and oliphaunts and inventions from all over the world."

Bilbo smiled but shook his head. "I can't go to Gondor. Not when you're... Not until I know you're feeling better."

Bungo humphed and furrowed his brows. Then, thinking better of it, he sat up a little. "Yes, but if you went," he began, "you could tell me all about it and maybe bring me something back. And that would give me something to look forward to."

"I'll think about it," Bilbo promised.

There was a long silence before Bungo spoke again. "You must give up all of these hopes of Elvish medicine, my boy," he said.

Bilbo's eyes widened and he looked up at his father. How could he have known? But Gandalf gave him a look that told him not to question.

"I'm dreadfully afraid of it, you see," Bungo continued. "What if you went through all the trouble of getting it for me, and it didn't work? Then you would be even sadder when I go. And if the dwarves were to catch wind of it?"

"There is a risk," Bilbo agreed. "But I would be careful about getting it."

"I shall help you if I can, Bilbo," Gandalf said. "I might have even gone about it myself if you hadn't said so."

"And you would keep the door like a dragon while the elves were here, wouldn't you, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked.

Gandalf smiled. "Like a dragon? No. I shall keep it like a wizard. That, I think, should be far better. It would require no small amount of cleverness to get past me."


	12. Chapter 12

Before all the business of acquiring Elvish medicine was to take place, Bilbo promised his father that he would go with Gandalf to Minas Tirith to the festival and bring him something back. It was an easy enough choice considering that Bilbo really did have a great Tookish curiosity to go and Bungo was so adamantly for it.

The wizard was gone for some months before a knock on the door in the dead of night woke Bilbo from his sleep. Grumbling and cursing, he donned his dressing gown and went to the door. When it was opened, there was Gandalf, smiling rather like a cat that had brought back a mouse. Indeed, he had brought something back, and that something was none other than Primula, Drogo, and young Frodo!

"Oh, my dears!" Bilbo exclaimed, ushering all of them inside and embracing them tightly. "Whatever are you doing so far away from the Shire?"

Drogo stuck his thumbs in his bracers. "We might ask you the same, Cousin Bilbo," he said smugly. "But Prim could not be kept away when Gandalf gave her the chance to come and see you."

"No, I could not!" Primula agreed. She nodded to the babe in her arms. "And Frodo wanted to see you, too."

"Oh!" Bilbo said, reaching for him almost subconsciously. "May I hold him, please?"

"Of course," Prim said, placing Frodo gently in Bilbo's arms.

Bilbo fell in love with him immediately. It wasn't that he seemed a good, strong hobbit-babe (though he did). It wasn't that he was a beautiful little thing with dark hair and darker blue eyes (though he was). It was that the lad had been all over the wide world. If Drogo was smart, he'd keep whatever adventures they'd had very private. Perhaps Frodo himself wouldn't even know about them. And yet, here he was. Bilbo loved him for the spirit he was bound to have.

The next morning, they had only enough time to say hello and goodbye to Aunt Belladonna and Uncle Bungo and leave Frodo with them before they were on their merry way to Gondor, taking Bilbo with them.

It took over a week to reach Minas Tirith, and they were just in time for the beginning of the festival. The soaring towers of the White City were hung with banners of silver and gold, and the streets were lined with marble statues of ancient kings. Bilbo's eyes were wide as he wandered through the streets, taking in the marvelous sights.

"What is this festival for, Gandalf?" Primula asked, walking just ahead of Bilbo.

"Well," Gandalf said, clearing his throat. "It is in celebration of Gondolin, my dear. Lord Ecthelion has held it since he came to be the Steward of Gondor. It is in memory of all that the people of Gondor have lost. But if you ask me, he is rather too keen to remember the past without having any hope or thought for the future. Still, it is a merry time, and the people rather enjoy themselves. Not to mention it encourages good relations among the free kingdoms of Middle Earth as they are all invited to showcase their finest exports."

"I think it's wonderful," Bilbo said softly as they passed a display of colored glass. "It seems as though all the world is here for us to see."

"Is it as grand as Erebor, Bilbo?" Drogo asked. "I seem to remember a letter of yours detailing how splendid it was on the inside."

Bilbo considered this. "I would not say it is quite so grand as the mountain," he decided absently. "But wonderful all the same." A display of crystals had caught his attention, and he began to feel himself pulled deeper into the row of stalls. A large crowd of people had gathered there, staring in silent wonder at the craftsmanship on display. Dwarven craftsmanship, Bilbo realized with a start.

At the end of the street, a familiar voice spoke above all others. Thorin's voice. Bilbo was drawn to it until (after considerable pushing through the crowds) he saw the king standing there. His arms folded over his chest as he spoke to the Men surrounding him. He had no pedestal or platform to put him above them, but there was no mistaking that he was the speaker of the hour. The people listened to him as though his words would bring the dawn of a new age.

"You are all here to see the craftsmanship of the dwarves of Erebor," he was saying. "There is none like it in all the world. If only there was a mechanism to enable us to all live together, to take advantage of the great benefits that come from such industry! But that will be for future generations. We can offer all we can, but we cannot stop any people - Men or Dwarrow - from behaving as they always have."

"Don't you think you can put an end to uprisings?" a voice rose from the crowd.

"Not in my lifetime. But with time and patience, we might try to bleed them of their bitterness," Thorin answered. Then, his eyes met Bilbo's, and there they lingered for but a moment before he continued. "Mr. Baggins here knows the depths we Dwarves of Erebor have fallen to. How we dwarf lords only strive to grind our workers into the ground."

The crowd turned to Bilbo.

"I certainly do no think that," Bilbo answered defensively. "As King Thorin could tell you if he would know me at all." Then, he turned on his heel to walk away.

Thorin hurried after him through the crowd as the Men returned to their festivities. He caught Bilbo gently by the arm and turned him. "I have presumed to know you once before and have been mistaken."

"Mr. Baggins!" the voice came from Kili who was some distance away standing by the Lady Las. The two dwarrow walked up together. "I would not have expected to see you here!"

Bilbo shook himself away from Thorin's piercing eyes and smiled at Kili. "Nor I, you!"

"Well, my mother encouraged me to come with Uncle to represent our people here," Kili said. "And to show Las how these things are done in Erebor, of course. Mother approves of her, I think. At the very least, she considers her far more sensible than me."

At that moment, Gandalf appeared, trailing Primula and Drogo behind. "Bilbo, there you are! And Thorin! What a happy chance."

"A chance that I must cut short," Thorin said abruptly. "I must be gone today. These Men may enjoy our metals and machinery like an exhibit in a museum. I must go and live with it."

Gandalf squinted but nodded. "Give our regards to the Bagginses that are still there. You must tell them how this Gondor air is suiting Bilbo. Don't you think so, Thorin?"

Thorin returned Gandalf's scrutinizing gaze with a glare of steel.

"Don't you think Bilbo looks well?" Gandalf pressed.

Thorin's glare did not shift. He bowed. "Good morning," he said, and turned to leave.

Bilbo placed his arm on Thorin's shoulder as he passed him. "Tell Mother and Father I'll be home soon," Bilbo asked. "With so much to tell them."

Thorin paused and nodded before continuing.

"I'm sorry," Kili said, already making hesitant steps to follow his uncle. "He's not usually like this." With these words, Kili, too, was gone with Las at his heels.

"Who was that?" Drogo asked. "Is it anyone we should know?"

Bilbo had not noticed Timur in the group of Dwarves, but he was there all the same. He spoke before anyone could answer Drogo. "Poor Thorin," he sighed. "I tempted him down here to try to raise finance for Erebor, and he's had to face all kinds of inquiries. Starry-eyed Gondorians who think they only have to snap their fingers to open trade between Minas Tirith and the Mountain." He bowed and followed after his daughter.

"I'd hardly have thought a dwarf would've appreciated a festival like this," Primula mused.

"No, you're wrong," Bilbo answered a little too sharply. Then he thought better of it, and his voice softened. "I've heard Thorin talk often with my mother. He's very interested in the world. I know him to be."

Gandalf raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

ooo

Dis had come to the Bagginses home at the request of Bungo. Though, why he had thought of her of all people, she could hardly guess. Belladonna greeted her at the door and instructed her to go to Bungo's room. He was waiting for her.

Bungo was abed with a coverlet tucked up to his chest, and his breaths were unsteady and raspy. He opened his eyes as Dis walked in and managed a smile as he gestured for her to sit on the chair next to him. When Dis did so, Bungo reached for her hand which she gave, perplexed.

"My son Bilbo," Bungo began weakly. He coughed once. "I will be dead soon... I want you to look after him. He needs guidance."

Dis' eyes widened. "I'm sure your son makes his own choices. I cannot make him change his mind. He has already made his decisions," she answered bitterly. "I am surprised he's not here as you are not well."

Bungo shook his head, and that seemed to pain him. "I made him go," he said. "I was feeling a great deal better, but... I wish you to be a friend to Bilbo."

Dis sighed. "I'm afraid it is not in my nature to show affection, even when I feel it. But I promise that if Master Baggins should ask me for help, or if... or should I ever hear of him doing something that I see as wrong..."

"But Bilbo never does anything wrong!"

Dis resisted the urge to turn her eyes upward. "I will counsel him as I would my own family," she said. Then she smiled. "I promise."

Bungo nodded and closed his eyes. "I hope that Mahal will bless you for your promise to be kind to my lad." When he had said this, he fell into a deep slumber.

ooo

Bilbo was uncharacteristically silent on the way back from Minas Tirith. He asked no questions and sang no songs. Even Primula and Drogo who had not been subject to his chatter on the journey from the Shire to Dale began to think it very odd.

It seemed an age before they were back in Dale. They arrived at the Bagginses home late at night, and Bilbo went immediately to his father and sat by his bed. Belladonna followed close behind him.

Bungo was asleep, and he was as pale as death and taking shallow breaths. Bilbo took his hand and stroked the papery skin. "I should never have gone, mother," Bilbo lamented.

"He wanted you to go," Belladonna said, placing her hands on Bilbo's shoulders. "He was happy for you. This last turn happened very suddenly."

Then, there was a knock at the front door of the house.

"Oh, who would come visiting at this hour?" Belladonna said. "I'll answer it."

Bilbo stood. "No, I'll go. Keep Father company." He walked to the door before she could protest.

Bilbo opened the door to reveal a hooded figure. "Is Mr. Baggins in?" she questioned.

"I am Mr. Baggins," Bilbo said warily.

"The elder Mr. Baggins?"

"No," Bilbo said. "But who might you be?"

The figure lifted her head and drew back her hood. Her face was one of the fairest Bilbo had seen, and her hair was a fiery red. There was no mistaking it. An elf was on his doorstep. "I am called Tauriel. I am Captain of the Guard of the Woodland Realm and friend to Prince Kili," she said. It was only then that Bilbo noticed the Prince himself lingering behind her. "I heard that you were in need of Elvish medicine."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: the next few chapters feature a good deal of death, one of which is a suicide. i would have liked to exclude these, but the story cannot progress otherwise. take comfort in the fact that in the source material, sigrid's counterpart DID die, and i was able to change that for this retelling.

"How is your father, Mr. Baggins?" Kili asked as he pushed inside. Tauriel followed him.

Bilbo spluttered a moment before coming to a sentence. "He's alive," he answered. "He's as ill as he could be, but he lives."

Kili nodded. "Thank Mahal," he sighed. "We're still in time."

Bilbo looked between Kili and Tauriel. "Kili-"

"You did expect this, didn't you?" Kili asked.

Bilbo furrowed his brows. "As a matter of fact, I did not."

Kili looked surprised. "Well, how can that be? You sent a raven, and I've had quite a time thinking up a way to get her into Dale."

Bilbo was back to spluttering. A raven? He didn't recall sending a raven.

Belladonna's voice sounded from deep inside the house. "Bilbo, who is it?" She appeared at the entry to the hall and stopped dead when she saw Tauriel and Kili standing there.

"Mistress Baggins," Kili said bowing low. "Allow me to introduce Tauriel of the Woodland Realm. She is a skilled healer and has come to tend to the elder Mr. Baggins."

Tauriel bowed to Belladonna.

"Oh, my dears!" Belladonna said, breaking into a smile. She ran forward to embrace Tauriel first and then Kili. "Come in, come in! You must've had a journey."

"Now hold on a minute," Bilbo said, holding up his hand. "I'm sure I'm very grateful to you both, but I still cannot recall ever sending a raven."

Kili shrugged. "You must have. Roac, the raven, relayed the message exactly as you sent it. 'Prince Kili says that father might try Elvish medicine,' you said. 'If he knows how to get it, he's welcome to try.' Well, I do know how to get it, and so I did try."

"And so I came," Tauriel added. "To help both your father and the Princess Sigrid."

Now that it was mentioned, Bilbo did recall that raven on his windowsill so many nights ago. Surely, it could not be the same raven. But then, how could it be any other? Bilbo smiled then. "Well good gracious, come to the kitchen then," he said, marching past them and leading them into the house. "I'll fetch you some tea, or maybe something stronger! You've caught us a bit unprepared, I'm afraid. We've only got cold chicken, bit of pickle- Oh, no, that might be a little risky."

They reached the kitchen and Bilbo busied himself taking stock of all of their wares. "Er, we've got raspberry jam and apple tart. We've got some custard somewhere. Not much for Afters I'm afraid. Oh, no, we're alright! I've just found some sponge cake. Nice little snack. Hope it's enough. I can make you some eggs if you like."

Tauriel smiled. "Just tea, thank you."

ooo

There was a knock on the door the next morning after Kili had returned to the Mountain, and Bilbo answered it to reveal Thorin Oakenshield standing on the doorstep with a book and a basket. Bilbo stepped out quickly and shut the door behind him.

Thorin's eyes widened when he saw Bilbo, but he recovered quickly. "Mr. Baggins," he said.

"Thorin," he replied with a smile, nervous as he was.

"I've only come to return this book to your mother," he said, nodding to the book in question. "And I've taken the liberty of bringing some fruit for your father."

"Thank you," Bilbo said as he took the book and basket from the king.

At that moment, Tilda walked up to the house, no doubt to visit Tauriel.

"Tilda, dear," Bilbo said. "Would you be so kind as to take these things through to the kitchen?"

Tilda nodded and did as Bilbo asked, leaving the door open as she went.

Thorin bowed. "Excuse me," he said. "I thought I would still be welcome here despite our... despite what's passed between us. As your mother's guest at least."

"Indeed, you are welcome," Bilbo said, somehow desperate to reassure him. "But..." How could he tell the King Under the Mountain he was harboring an Elf in his home? And that he was the very person he was harboring her from?

Thorin's eyes wandered behind Bilbo into the house. In a panic, Bilbo turned. Yes, he must be looking at the cloak hanging on the rack just inside. Bilbo turned back, searching Thorin's eyes. Hoping he wouldn't recognize that it was of Elven make.

"I'm sorry," Thorin said. "You have company already." He took a step back.

"No, no!" Bilbo said. "No company. There is no one here. At all."

The sound of laughter from inside the house made Bilbo cringe.

Thorin bowed again. "Good day, Mr. Baggins." Then he turned to leave.

"Thorin, please," Bilbo called after him. "My father is ill! Things are not as they seem! Please believe me that I mean no discourtesy toward you and that you are most welcome!" But it was of little use. Thorin was already gone, and he did not turn back once.

ooo

Tauriel was seated in the parlor when Bilbo entered with the basket of fruit and a sinking heart. He really had not meant to offend Thorin, and he could only hope that the king would not feel discouraged from visiting again. After all, Belladonna was so fond of him, and he had really become a familiar presence in the house.

"Who was that?" Tauriel questioned.

"King Thorin Oakenshield," Bilbo answered.

"Ah," Tauriel answered with a wince. "The one that will not allow Elves near the mountain. I do wonder what Mithrandir meant by allowing your mother to take you all this way and placing you in the company of such-"

Bilbo could not help feeling a little defensive. "Thorin is..." he cut in. Then he sighed. "He is a good king, Tauriel... He may be misguided about Elves, but he's been very good to us."

Tauriel gave a nod. "You have my apologies," she said. Then she stood and began to pace the room. "You are right. I should not speak ill of my beloved's uncle, however it pains me that Kili's life and mine must always be separate."

"So..." Bilbo said. "You are Kili's... Kili's One?"

Tauriel paused and fixed her gaze on Bilbo. "Yes," she answered, tilting her head to the side. "How do you know about Dwarven One's?"

"Sigrid told me," Bilbo answered quickly. "I confess I know only a little about it. All I know is that some say that dwarrow do not know love until they meet their One."

Tauriel continued to pace. "That is not wholly true. They know love of their family and friends. They know love of their people. But they will never know a love that burns them from the inside outward until they meet their One."

Bilbo swallowed. "And how do they know if they've met their One?"

"They feel a great Longing all of their lives," Tauriel explained. "I have been told that when a dwarf recognizes their One, it is like a great fire from a forge burns the Longing away and stays with them. Afterward, they will have no other save their One, and it causes them great pain - even physical pain - to be without them."

A mountain of guilt shot up through Bilbo's feet and into his throat. Could it be that he was Thorin's One? But he supposed that Thorin may have simply been confused or even just trying to save his reputation as he suspected at first. Surely a dwarrowdam like Lady Las was far more apt for that part in Thorin's life. "Could a dwarf marry someone who was not their One?" he asked.

Tauriel laughed and Bilbo could feel the tips of his ears turn pink. "Certainly, they could, but they have no desire to. It is not practiced even among nobles to marry for anything but the love of their One."

"Would you marry Kili?"

Now, it was Tauriel's turn for pinkened ears. "We have already been married in the Elvish sense," she said quietly.

Bilbo's eyes widened. "Oh, I see," he said.

It was then that Gandalf entered the room. "Tauriel, come quickly," he said. "Bungo has taken another turn for the worse."

ooo

Bungo was awake and holding onto Belladonna's hand, but he did not speak as Tauriel rushed to him and checked his pulse, his eyes, and the beating of his heart. At length, the Elf sat back, and turned slowly to Bilbo and Gandalf. "The medicines I gave him last night changed nothing," she said. "I fear this is not a regular sickness."

Bungo coughed. "I might have told you that, Mistress Elf," he said in a rasping voice.

Bilbo looked desperately between Tauriel and his father. "What kind of illness is it, then? Or better yet, what can be done for it?"

"It is an illness of the spirit, and the spirit causes the body to diminish," Tauriel explained. "I have never heard of it occurring in halflings, but nothing can be done for it."

"Well, well," Bungo said. "If that's the case, Mistress Elf, I would like to see my son."

Tauriel lowered her head, touched her hand to her heart, and backed away. Bilbo rushed forward that moment and seized his father's hand, gripping it tightly.

"Bilbo-" he began.

"No," Bilbo said, his voice breaking. "No, don't start with that. We can still find a way to save you, father. It will be alright."

Bungo released Bilbo's hand and reached up to brush the hair away from Bilbo's face. "My boy," he said. "You've already saved me a hundred times over. I'll allow you to fail just this once." Bungo gave Bilbo a wink, causing him to laugh through his tears.

Then, Bungo turned to Belladonna and grasped her hand. "Now then, my dear," he said. "We've known for some time that this is how it would go, haven't we?"

Belladonna nodded and brought Bungo's hand up to her cheek.

"Take care of Bilbo, my love," he continued. "Take care of yourself. Both of you take care of the other."

Then, Bungo's eyes turned glassy, and he said no more. So he passed, holding on to the hands of his wife and his son.

Bilbo did not accept this so readily. "Father?" Bilbo said. Then he employed a name he had not used since he was a boy. "Papa? No, no, you're not dead. Gandalf, he can't be dead."

Gandalf did not speak. Instead, he put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder. It was only then that Bilbo broke, and he lowered his head and sobbed against his father's lifeless hand. Belladonna reached across and put her hand on top of Bilbo's head. No one moved for some time.

ooo

A few days after Bungo's passing, Gandalf was in the streets of Dale, buying groceries for the Bagginses. He never thought he would be the type of wizard that bought groceries for hobbits, but it seemed that life was full of many strange occurrences.

He could not even be bothered to wonder what Saruman would say if he saw him, for he felt such a profound sorrow for Belladonna and Bilbo. Primula, Drogo, and Frodo had to leave before the funeral. It seemed that he was one of the only friends left to the family.

"Hey, you!" a voice behind him shouted as he walked. "Pointy-hat!"

Gandalf heaved a sigh and turned. As suspected, the only person who had the nerve to call him "pointy-hat" was staring at him, eyes full of schemes. "Alfrid Lickspittle," he said. "Might I help you in some way or are you only hoping to waste my valuable time?"

"I was just wondering what you might be doing all the way in Dale," Alfrid said. "Haven't seen ya since the dragon."

"Then you have poorer eyes than you have wits," Gandalf answered. "And if you must know, I am in town assisting my friends the Bagginses."

Alfrid nodded. "Ah, that queer bunch of hobbits. I've heard a thing or two about them, right enough. Wouldn't they have had to go through Mirkwood on the way here? What do you reckon they picked up some Elvish friends on the way?"

Gandalf glowered over him. "I've no idea what you are referring to, and neither do you for that matter," he said. "You would keep your tongue behind your teeth, if you knew what was good for you. I see now that you were only planning on wasting my time after all. Good day." With that, Gandalf turned back on his way and marched on.

ooo

"Oh, Gandalf, do you think he knows Tauriel is here?" Bilbo asked the wizard as he paced in the kitchen. Gandalf had told him all about his encounter with Alfrid.

"Whether he knows or not, we certainly don't want him to poke his nose in around here," Gandalf said thoughtfully.

Bilbo stopped by the window. "Well, that's it then. Tauriel must leave as soon as possible. Goodness knows she's been a tremendous encouragement, but nothing can be done for it, I'm afraid."

"I will arrange everything," Gandalf assured him with a nod. "Never fear, Bilbo. I shall make sure nothing disturbs this family anymore."


	14. Chapter 14

"I wish I had met this Alfrid," Tauriel said as she paced across the Bagginses sitting room. "I do not see why I should have to run away. I have a good mind to march to the mountain and plead my case to Thorin himself."

On the sofa, Kili pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, you must go, my love."

Tauriel knelt before Kili. "Do you not think that if you were to speak to your uncle..."

Kili sighed and brushed his fingers through her hair. "I wish I could say it would change things. But you must understand that Thorin's memory of Thranduil's wrongs against our people is fresh. It may not be just that his vitriol extends to all Elvenfolk, but it is his way."

"Have you never told your uncle about your situation?" Bilbo asked. "About how she is your One?"

Kili shook his head. "How can I now? He would feel I betrayed him."

"No, that should not be how it is done," Tauriel agreed. "Do you regret our marriage now, meleth nin? It is easier to say that I am your One than to say that I am your One and we are already married."

Kili's eyes softened. "How could I ever regret such a thing?" he asked. Then, with a smile, he scrunched his nose. "Besides, I could never refuse anything you asked me. You know this."

And idea sparked in Bilbo's mind and his eyes lit up. "What if I were to speak to him?" he asked.

Kili furrowed his brows. "What could you possibly do, Bilbo? No offense."

Bilbo supposed the fact that he was Thorin's One wasn't anyone else's business but Thorin's. "I suppose you're right," Bilbo said with a nervous laugh. "But suppose there was someone who could convince Thorin?"

"Well, there would only be two who might," Kili mused. "Mother for one, and she wouldn't try to change his mind even if she could. The other would only be his One, and we have no idea who that is."

Bilbo nodded. It was as he thought then. Perhaps the next time he saw Thorin he might put in a good word or two for Elvenkind. But even then, would he listen? Things were constantly shifting as far as his standing with Thorin. "No matter," Bilbo sighed. "Tauriel, you must leave tomorrow night. Gandalf and I can arrange passage for you over the lake."

Tauriel stood and bowed to Bilbo. "My thanks, mellon."

ooo

The following night, Bilbo led Tauriel and Kili to the lake. Kili and Tauriel were both hooded and cloaked lest anyone recognize them, and they went to a shadowed, misty part of the shore. The few souls that were there had their own secret reasons to be by the lake late at night so none bothered any other. The bargeman was waiting on the rocks for his passengers to say their goodbyes.

"Only a few moments more," Kili said to Tauriel in a low voice. "I don't know when we'll see each other again."

"Soon," Tauriel assured him, grasping his hand. "I will be on the next hunt near the edge of the wood. You may find me there."

Kili nodded and reached up to envelope his wife in an embrace and kiss her. Bilbo blushed and looked away.

"I must return to the mountain," Kili said after he pulled away. He was still holding both of her hands in his, and he did not go until Tauriel nodded her assent. Even then, he did not release her hands until the last possible moment.

When Kili was gone, Bilbo turned to Tauriel who was still staring after her husband. He cleared his throat to grab her attention. "I wanted to thank you for everything you did," he said. "Even if you couldn't save my father, I certainly appreciate you trying."

Tauriel smiled. "It was my pleasure," she said. "I only wish I could have been of more help to your family."

Bilbo waved her words away. "I only wish that you had not risked so much for nothing by coming here. I'm sorry to have troubled you."

Tauriel furrowed her brows. "I was not troubled, nor was all of this for nothing. I was able to heal the Princess Sigrid, and I saw my husband which is a rare joy. Do not trouble yourself on my account, Bilbo. It is you who carries the weight of the dead."

"I'll be alright," Bilbo said in a quavering voice. He so badly did not want to think of his father, lying dead in the house waiting for his funeral. Mother still acted as though he was alive, and he found he desired to do the same as long as he could. "But Sigrid... She is well now?"

Tauriel nodded. "Her ailment was able to be healed with Elvish medicine. She had somehow had a drink of the dragon water, but I drew its poison out of her. She may need much time to recover, but she will live."

Bilbo smiled. "Well, that does make me happy," he said. "I may even give you a hug for it if I thought it was appropriate for hobbits to go around hugging elves."

Tauriel smiled and crouched down to wrap her arms around Bilbo. "I do not think it inappropriate, my dear friend."

It was only as she pulled back that Bilbo noticed over her shoulder Thorin Oakenshield staring at them. Bilbo's heart leapt into his throat, but perhaps Thorin would not recognize that he was with an Elf. After all, they were some distance off, and Tauriel was hooded. But even as Bilbo thought it, Tauriel craned her neck to look behind her, and her hood slipped from her head. There was no mistaking it now. No one within view of Tauriel might mistake her.

Thorin glowered and turned on his heel to walk away.

"That was-" Tauriel began.

"Thorin," Bilbo finished in a whisper.

Tauriel looked as panicked as Bilbo felt. "I know I said that I should not speak ill of him, but he sends a chill through me. What shall he do now that he knows there has been an Elf here?"

Bilbo shook his head. "He is not charging at you this very moment, and that alone surprises me. Do not judge him too harshly. There may be hope."

Before Tauriel could reply, a loud and slurred voice rose above every other noise. "There! I thought so! An Elf with the Bagginses." This voice belonged to Alfrid Lickspittle, and though Bilbo did not know him, he might have guessed. Alfrid stumbled drunkenly across the shore and grabbed Tauriel by the cloak. "There's a reward for catching Elves in these parts, you know."

Tauriel gripped his hand and bent it backward, nearly to the breaking point. "You will do well to let me go in peace," she warned. Then she cast him away and sent him stumbling.

This however, seemed only to anger Alfrid. Perhaps it was only drunkness that gave him the courage to charge Tauriel, but he did it all the same. This time, she cast him backward into the shallow water where flailed a moment before righting himself.

The bargeman seemed to take this as a signal that it was high time he was on the other side of the lake. Tauriel only just made it into the boat before he cast off. When they were far offshore, she looked back at Bilbo and waved goodbye.

ooo

Bungo's funeral was a small affair held in a little graveyard on the outskirts of town. It was only as Belladonna sang a traditional hobbit farewell that Bilbo began to realize that his father was really and truly gone. He felt the weight of Bungo's absence like a mountain crushing his chest, and he began to tremble. Gandalf put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder, and it did comfort him a little. But Belladonna's song echoing in the empty space soon overcame him.

"There's hardly anyone here," Bilbo whispered to Gandalf. "If we were in the Shire, all of his friends would come to say goodbye."

"Yes," Gandalf agreed in a low voice. "But look. Bard is here and so is Thorin. What other hobbit has had two kings come to pay respects at their passing? I think the honor is befitting of him."

"But it doesn't make it better," Bilbo said, his words becoming choked. "And, really, a hundred hobbits wouldn't make it better. It still hurts beyond reckoning. My father is gone." Then Bilbo began to weep, and Gandalf could do nothing but keep his hand on Bilbo's shoulder.

ooo

As the funeral ended, and the small crowd dispersed, Gandalf walked to stand by Thorin who was watching as Belladonna and Bilbo walked away.

"How are they?" Thorin asked. "Bilbo and his mother?"

"They are as well as can be expected," Gandalf said. "Don't worry, Thorin. They have many people to look after them."

"I would help them if I can," Thorin pressed.

Gandalf shook his head. "Everything is taken care of. Bilbo pretends he would have liked a larger turnout to the funeral, but I think it is better for him this way. He has never been keen on great crowds, and they would suit him even less while he's grieving. I even think it is a good thing that Primula and Drogo had to leave before the funeral. They are sad, of course, but they would use this as a chance to sweep Bilbo back to the Shire, I think."

Thorin stiffened, and Gandalf only pretended he didn't notice. "Would he?" Thorin asked. "Go back to the Shire?"

Gandalf considered this a moment. "Not while his mother is settled here. But then, I have heard her talk about going off on another adventure. At that point, Bilbo might see no reason to stay here," he answered. "But I shall let you know if your help is needed." With nothing more to say, Gandalf walked away.

ooo

"We thought we might find you here around dinner time," Belladonna said to Bard as he welcomed them into the Great House. Her voice had lost its usual energy.

Bard gave a smile and a hum as he led them to the sitting room. "You are pretty sure of finding me here at any time. Please, sit down."

"Are you not assuming Sigrid's position then?" Bilbo asked, sitting down next to his mother on the sofa. "At least while she is recovering."

"There is no longer any position to assume," Bard said, taking the chair opposite them. "We are no longer in a place to negotiate with the King Under the Mountain."

"You mean he will not let you?" Bilbo asked, stunned.

Bard shook his head. "No, he would let us, I reckon. But I've no doubt what the Dwarf Lords would suggest he require of us. They would make us promise not to stage another uprising. Or make sure I did not pay the men not to work. I do not see that they can decide what I do with my own men or what my men do with their wages. You earn a wage, do you not, Mistress Baggins?"

"Yes," Belladonna answered. "Yes, I do."

"And I guess that those who pay you do not tell you how to spend your coin."

"No, they certainly don't."

Bilbo squinted. "Are you sure that Thorin would agree to such a suggestion?"

"No, maybe not Thorin," Bard agreed. "But the Dwarf Lords have enough liberty in their own right to do what they like. They might still require the men that work for them to give an account of their spendings. They're tyrants, the lot of them."

"I seem to remember Binur comparing the uprising to a tyranny," Bilbo countered.

Bard shook his head. "I wish it were in me to make Binur see the error of that thinking," he sighed. "But he is a fool. We had the general opinion on our side until he turned to violence, and he did the uprising more harm than good."

"Then whyever did you not leave him alone and let him work?" Bilbo asked. "You must have driven him mad."

"Bilbo!" Belladonna scolded.

"No, Mistress Baggins," Bard said with a smile. "Your son has always spoken his mind. I admire that, but he does not understand. We are a small kingdom, Bilbo. Compared to Erebor and the might of the dwarves we may as well be a smudge on a map. The uprising was a great feat - so many men willing to stand and say that they were something more than merely good workers. It was our only chance to be seen as equal with the great kingdoms. I should say no more. I cannot help but be angry with Binur. There is no end to his mischief."

"Still?" Bilbo pressed.

Bard nodded. "First he starts the violence, then he goes into hiding. Thorin does not pursue him so he slinks back home, and what does he do? He goes to every Dwarf Lord to beg for work even though that means forsaking Dale. In fairness to the Lords, none of them listened to him, and all of them drove him away. They say he wept like a child." At this, Bard got a faraway look in his eye, and for the first time since the uprising began Bilbo saw the compassion that Bard had impressed upon him at first.

Soon, a commotion sounded on the streets outside. The Men were calling for the king, and Bard rose to answer, confounded as he was. Belladonna and Bilbo followed.

In the middle of the street, there was a stretcher with a corpse on it covered fully in linen. One man who was standing by it stepped forward and bowed to Bard. "I found him on the shore of the lake, your majesty," he said. "It's Binur. He drowned himself."

Bard's eyes widened, and he took a faltering step toward the stretcher. "No, it cannot be. He would not have done it."

The man who brought him said nothing but pulled the linen back. There was no mistaking Binur's lifeless eyes. "I brought him here so you might tell his wife and children what's become of him," the man explained. "Forgive me, I knew no other who would do this service."

"I..." Bard began, and Bilbo caught a tear shining on his cheek. "This one final service. Yes, I can do this much for him."

Soon after Bard left, he returned trailing Binur's wife. The dwarrowdam rushed forward the moment she caught sight of her husband's body and screamed in agony as she cradled him. "No, no, he could not have," she sobbed. "He loved us, and we loved him. I was so harsh to him just this morning! But now what are we to do without him?"

None could answer her.

ooo

Bilbo's next letter to Primula did not pretend to be optimistic. He described Bungo's funeral to her, and told her of Binur's death. Even sadder news followed that.

_Only a few days after they found Binur, his wife followed him to the halls of Mahal, leaving six orphaned children behind. We buried Binur and his wife high above the city in the fresh air, their earthly struggles and cares over forever. Bard was there at Binur's funeral, but he could not find the heart to sing a farewell to him. I have never seen him so low, but I think his presence brought comfort to Binur's children. How much harder it is for those who are left behind to mourn._


	15. Chapter 15

Bilbo was gingerly packing away Bungo's things in a little cedar trunk he had purchased in the market when Gandalf entered the room.

"Bilbo," the wizard said. "You had better come quickly, my lad. There is a Dwarf Lord at the door asking for one of you, and I'll not trouble your mother about it."

Bilbo looked over his shoulder at Gandalf. "Did he say what he wanted?" he asked, panic taking hold of him. What if this was about the business with Tauriel?

"It hardly matters," Gandalf pressed. "It is impolite to keep a dwarf of his importance waiting. He is in the study."

Bilbo nodded and went to the study. It was strange. He was so accustomed to Thorin being the dwarrow waiting in the study that he found himself disappointed when it was not Thorin.

"Nori, at your service, Master Baggins," the dwarrow said with a bow. "I believe we met at his majesty's dinner party some months ago, if you'll recall."

"Yes," Bilbo confirmed. "You own a pub in the mountain as I recall."

"Oh, aye," Nor said. "But I've other duties besides that, and that's why I've come. See, on top of owning a pub, I am the chief investigator in the mountain. As such, my duty obliges me to ask you a few questions."

Bilbo quirked a brow and gestured for him to continue.

Nori cleared his throat and pulled out a parchment to read it. "A Man has died at the infirmary following a fall, we think, after a fight on the shore of the Lake between the hours of eleven and twelve at night on Thursday the twenty-sixth. One Alfrid Lickspittle. At the time, the fight didn't appear to be of much consequence. The doctors think the man had a drinking habit and some internal complaint. There will have to be an inquest. The witness, a grocer's assistant, stated that the fight was precipitated by some drunken impertinence to a person who was walking with an Elf by the shore. So, you see, it's really quite interesting. But there is some reason to believe that that person with the Elf might be you, Master Baggins."

Bilbo's heart was beating at a pace more rapid than he could ever remember, but he did not let his face betray him. "I was not there," he said.

Nori hesitated. "The witness," he said, "said the person was short and remarkably handsome. He identified the person as a Mr. Baggins from the Shire whose family frequents the shop. You are the only Mr. Baggins from the Shire."

Bilbo blinked and turned away from Nori lest he see the evergrowing panic mounting in him. "I do not know, Nori. As much as I would like to own up to being remarkably handsome, I'm sorry that I have to repeat that there has been some mistake. I was not there."

Nori squinted but nodded. "I see."

After a moment, Bilbo turned back. "Do you have any more questions for me, inspector?"

Nori shook his head and sighed. "No, as long as I have your absolute denial that you were that person."

"I'm sorry that Mr. Lickspittle is dead, but I was not there," Bilbo insisted one last time.

"Very well," Nori continued. "But it may be that if my witness insists that it was you at the shore of the Lake, then I may have to summon you to an inquest to provide an alibi. I hope you'll forgive my impertinence, but I have to do my duty." Without another word, Nori spun on his heel and left.

When Bilbo heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, he collapsed in his chair and did not move for some time.

ooo

Thorin was in his office when Nori entered.

"Your majesty," he greeted with a bow.

"Nori," Thorin returned absently. "What is new in the case of Alfrid Lickspittle?"

Nori tilted his head. "Well, he was drunk, obviously, but he met his death by violence almost certainly."

"One of our servants was engaged to him, if you can believe it," Thorin mused, shuffling through a series of reports from the forges. "She's in great distress today."

Nori hummed and paced the office twice before saying, "Do you remember Mr. Bilbo Baggins, Thorin?"

Thorin paused and looked up slowly from his paperwork, furrowing his brows. "Yes, indeed. What of it?"

Nori sighed. "It's just that I have a very secure chain of evidence that there was an Elf walking with Mr. Baggins by the lake that night. And that the Elf was the one that fought Alfrid and may well have caused his death. But Mr. Baggins denies that he was there at the time."

"Are you sure?" Thorin questioned. Then he cleared his throat. "I mean, are you sure that there was an Elf there connected to the death? What date was this? What time?"

"Between eleven and twelve on Thursday the twenty-sixth," Nori answered.

Thorin went silent for a long while. At length, he said, "Mr. Baggins denies he was there?"

Nori nodded. "Aye, so you can see my problem? I have a witness who is still pretty positive he saw Mr. Baggins, even though I've told him of his denial. There'll be a coroner's inquest. Disputed identities are very awkward. One does not like to doubt the word of a respectable gent like Mr. Baggins."

"He denies he was at the Lake?" Thorin repeated.

"Thrice he did," Nori confirmed. "Very emphatic about it. I did tell him I would have to ask again. You're a friend of the family, aye?"

Thorin seemed to become himself again. "Quite right. Don't do anything until you see me again. I will look into it personally."

Nori looked surprised but bowed. "Of course, your majesty." Then he left.

ooo

The poor maid that had been engaged to Alfrid had been weeping so violently in the corners of the palace that Thorin released her for the entire month so she could mourn. The poor thing was better off without that scoundrel anyway, but he did not dare tell her so. However, it did not stop him from telling as much to Dis when he saw her in her office replying to a letter.

Dis, however, was not interested in the Alfrid or the maid. "You know what they are all saying about Bilbo," she said. "Out after dark, trailing an Elf."

Thorin blinked. "I do not know nor care what they all say, Dis," he answered decidedly. "And nor should you." Without another word, he walked away.

He did not see Dis sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose, and he did not hear mutter under her breath, "Blinded, he is. That hobbit really must be his One for him to talk about him so. My poor brother."

ooo

Some days later, Nori came by the Bagginses house once again after dinnertime.

"You're here very late," Bilbo remarked, trying to sound casual.

"Aye, sorry about it, lad," Nori said. "I've had other people to see before now, otherwise I would have come sooner. There is, after all, to be no inquest in the Lickspittle case."

Bilbo refrained from taking a deep sigh of relief, and instead gripped the back of his armchair. "So, there is to be no further investigation?"

Nori nodded and retrieved a parchment from his breast pocket. "I have here in writing the order of the king."

"Thorin?" Bilbo gasped.

"Aye," Nori answered. "I told him of the difficulties."

The order read thus:

_I, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, hereby command that all investigation in the case of the death of Alfrid Lickspittle be stopped for the lack of medical evidence to prove foul play. I take full and personal responsibility for this order._

Bilbo read the note twice, trying to make sense of this turn of events before looking back up at Nori. "Thank you," he said. "Thorin... He understood that I wasn't there? At the shore, I mean?"

"Yes, of course," Nori said. "I'm sorry to have doubted your word, little master. The witness was so positive, but now he knows he was mistaken. He hopes he hasn't caused offense. So, good evening. I'll be on my way." And so, Nori left, and the matter was ended.

ooo

Thorin had spent the majority of his day in the forge before mustering up the courage to go to the Bagginses house. Since issuing the order to cease the investigation, his mind had been troubled by what he had seen that night on the shore. There was no mistaking it had been Bilbo, and that he had been in the company of an Elf. He understood why he might want to conceal the true events, but he had not imagined him to be the kind to do so by trickery and falsehood.

Still, he could not ignore the thumping of his heart when Bilbo answered the door. Thorin was sure, even when Bilbo had rejected him, that he would continue to love him until the day he died. Now, even in the face of deceit, he felt the same. His love hurt him more than ever and was screaming inside him.

But Bilbo was quiet as the grave when he ushered him into the house and took his cloak from him. Thorin tried pointedly not to catch Bilbo's eyes or even a glimpse of his auburn curls lest his heart pain him any more than it did already.

"I am here to read with Mistress Baggins," Thorin explained.

"Yes, of course," Bilbo answered. "She is waiting in the sitting room."

Thorin nodded, still keeping his gaze away from Bilbo, and marched past him. But then Bilbo called his name, and he could not ignore him. He stopped in the doorway.

"Thorin," Bilbo repeated in a breath. "I have to thank you."

Thorin turned back to him now and looked him in the eye. "No," he said. "No thanks for this. I did not do anything for you." This, of course, was an utter lie. Thorin felt he hardly did anything anymore without at least thinking of Bilbo.

Still, his wounded heart moved his tongue as he walked closer to the hobbit. "Do you not realize the risk that you take in being so indiscreet?" Thorin questioned. His tone was harsher than he would have liked, but it betrayed his hurt very well. "Have you no explanation for your behavior that night at the shore? You must imagine what I must think."

Bilbo looked down at his feet, and when he looked up again his eyes had reddened with tears. It made Thorin ache from head to heart. "Thorin, please," Bilbo said in a quiet, broken voice. "I'm aware of what you must think of me. I know it must have looked like I had betrayed you, being in the company of an Elf. But she is is a good sort, I can promise you. She's very dear to- Well, that secret is another person's to tell. I cannot explain it without doing them both harm."

Bilbo seemed to search him for some understanding, but Thorin found he could give none.

"Is that you, Thorin?" Belladonna's voice sounded from the sitting room. "Come in!"

Thorin closed his eyes and took a breath before speaking to Bilbo again. "I have not the slightest wish of prying into any Elvish secrets," he said. "If this is how you choose to conduct your affairs, I must realize that I cannot always turn a blind eye to it. The laws I have put in place are for my people's protection, and it is only for what love I had for you and the friendship I have with your mother that I have concealed how flippantly you have broken them. I realize now that I must try to be rid of whatever foolish sentiment I have for you. I will try to be rid of it now, and look to the future."

When he had said this, he turned on his heel and joined Belladonna in the sitting room. She found him ever so much quieter than he had ever been before, and Bilbo did not say a word at dinner.

Thorin left the house, trying to keep himself from trembling but failing to do so.

Bilbo went to bed that night with tears streaking down his face, but he could not explain why.


	16. Chapter 16

Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest when he saw King Bard standing outside the gates of the mountain early in the morning. "King Bard," he said with a bow and a sardonic tone. "To what do we owe the honor?"

The skepticism in Dwalin's voice was not lost on Bard. "Master Dwalin," he said, bowing in turn. "I seek an audience with Thorin Oakenshield."

Dwalin lifted his chin. "Oh, aye?" he said. "I don't suppose you're here to cause any trouble then? Hold the consequences of your uprising over his head? Or perhaps even warn him that you'll do it again given half a chance?"

Bard ground his teeth and answered slowly. "No, Master Dwalin, none of that. I have come in good faith. Surely, it is my right as a king equal to yours to hold counsel with Thorin?"

Dwalin shook his head. "You waived what rights you had when you staged the uprising, lad. I suggest you get yourself gone from here before we set our soldiers on you. Go on! Go away, and don't come back! Go on! Don't show your face here again."

If Thorin noticed this scene from the balcony above the doors, he did not intervene. If he was perturbed by such treatment of his fellow King and neighbor, he only showed it with his ever-present scowl.

Bard squinted up at the mountain as soon as he had gotten far enough away for Dwalin's liking. What kind of treatment had he expected after inciting an uprising against the dwarrow? But he could not help but feel it was somewhat on their account as well that the chord of communion had been broken between the two kingdoms. Especially now.

At least, at the Bagginses home he was welcome. That was all he could ask for at the present.

ooo

_Dear Primula,_

_Although the autumn is turning chilly, I'm still determined to take my daily walk. I cannot persuade Mother to join me. She has been very cast down since Father's death, and I do not think she would like to visit his grave as often as I do. She keeps to the house and her own company, and she has very few visitors to disturb her._

Bilbo was writing this in the sitting room where Belladonna sat in her armchair, reading. He looked up at his mother and a pang of sorrow came over him. She really had not looked the same since Father... Well, he did not like to think of it.

Luckily, a knock on the door proved a distraction for him, and Bilbo sprung up to answer it. There was Bard on the doorstep, and Bilbo smiled. "Oh, Bard!" he said. "Do come in, please!"

"I would, Bilbo, but my shoes are frightfully muddy from walking all over Dale and by the mountain, I'm afraid," Bard said. "I would not like to ruin your floors."

"Poppycock," Bilbo said, waving his words away. "Just wipe them on the mat and hurry in. Although, you have made me wonder what you have been doing all over Dale and by the mountain."

Bard did as instructed and followed Bilbo to the sitting room. Only when he had greeted Belladonna and seated himself did he begin to explain. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and said, "I've been trying to re-establish some goodwill between Dale and the Mountain. I've kept a civil tongue in my head, and not minded who says what back to me. I'm doing it for him, of course, not me. For Binur. Well, not for him. He doesn't need my help where he is in the halls of Aule. But his children are another matter..."

"And?" Belladonna pressed.

"Nothing. They will not even let me into the mountain. I realize now that I have failed in my role as king of Dale if cannot foster peace. I have been considering relinquishing my duties to another, perhaps a worthier man. Mr. Bilbo has often spoken of the West and of Bree where Men live there. Who knows? If I can get there where food is cheap and wages are good and people are friendly... maybe you could help me get work there."

"Oh," Belladonna replied, her brows furrowed in consternation. "What kind of work?"

"I think I'm good with a spade," Bard replied.

Bilbo had heard enough of this talk. He leaped up from his seat. "You mustn't leave Dale for the West. Your people need you here, whether you believe it or not. You are their king and their leader in every sense of the word. And you're a good one," Bilbo insisted. "Besides, you couldn't bear the dullness of life in the West. It would eat away at you like rust. Think no more of it, Bard. I beg you."

Bard lowered his head, but he seemed to accept this judgment.

"Have you spoken to Thorin directly?" Bilbo asked.

Bard snorted. "Nay," he answered. "Dwalin told me to go off immediately. He was very sharp."

"Would you try again?" Bilbo asked in a pleading voice. "I... I should be so glad if you would. Thorin would listen to you and deal with you fairly, I am sure, if given the chance."

Bard nodded. "It would take my pride, and that is not easy to set aside. Still, I suppose I must if you say so, Master Baggins. But if you have any other ideas for me, please let me know."

"Well, of course," Belladonna said. "Of course."

"Thank you," Bard said, standing. "I'll bid you goodnight."

Once Bard was gone, Bilbo and Belladonna exchanged a look. "He is a proud man," Belladonna sighed. "Still, there are qualities to be admired in these men of the East. Perhaps there is some hope here after all."

Bilbo also sighed and sat down again at his writing desk. "If only he and Thorin could speak face-to-face," he mused. "If he would only forget Thorin as the king of Erebor for a while and appeal to his heart."

Belladonna chuckled and opened her book again. "My word, Bilbo!" she said. "To admit that the West has its faults and that Thorin has his virtues? What has happened to bring about such a transformation?"

Bilbo hung his head and did not answer.

ooo

It was amazing how after all this time, Bilbo still managed to feel nervous when Princess Dis visited their home. He found himself never really able to guess what the proper etiquette was. Whether he should offer her tea or give her a fine chair to sit in... He was really at a loss. So, he ended up rambling.

"Thank you for sparing the time to visit us," Bilbo said. "My mother is detained, but she would be touched by your kindness. And thank you for your kind messages. We're so grateful. Oh, and Gandalf has sent me details of that little Rohirric tune that Prince Kili asked me about. Perhaps I should go get the music so you can take it back to him."

"Mr. Baggins," Dis said abruptly, just as Bilbo was about to stand and leave. "I'm afraid I did not visit to indulge Kili's thirst for musical fancies."

Bilbo furrowed his brows and gestured for her to continue.

It was perhaps the first time Bilbo had seen Dis look uncomfortable. Nevertheless, she spoke. "I have a duty to perform. I promised your father that if I knew that you had acted wrongly, I would offer you advice, whether you chose to take it or not. So, when I learned from one of my servants that you had been seen out after dark with an Elf, I thought it right to warn you against such activity. Surely you must know that keeping such company is illegal, and you cannot imagine-"

"Your highness," Bilbo interrupted, standing. "I'm sure my father never meant me to be exposed to insult! Whatever Thorin has told you, I can assure you-"

"My brother," Dis interrupted in turn, raising her chin, "has told me nothing. You know nothing of the dwarf you rejected. If he has any knowledge of this, he keeps it to himself as any honorable person would."

Bilbo regained his seat. "Of course," he said a little ashamedly. "I don't doubt it. I cannot give you any explanation. I've done wrong, but not by being in the company of an Elf. I am not sure what you imagine about them, but the Elf I was with is a good sort of person."

Dis considered this. "I did not approve of my brother's attachment to you. You did not seem worthy to me, but I was prepared for his sake. Your behavior on the day of the riots exposed you to the comments of servants, but by the time my brother had proposed to you, you had changed your mind. Perhaps you think low enough of us to fraternize with Elves..."

"You must think very little of me, madam," Bilbo replied cooly, though he was boiling.

"I cannot claim to be sorry you refused my brother. No, I'm glad. Especially now, when you expose yourself to ridicule and gossip."

Bilbo stood again, and this time he had no intention of sitting back down. "I won't listen to you anymore. I refuse to answer your questions. Good day, your highness." With this, he stormed out of the room, leaving Dis with her mouth agape.

ooo

At dawn, Bard was waiting outside the mountain gate, waiting for Thorin to exit. He was not sure what he was doing there, and he felt like a fool. But Mr. Baggins had nigh begged him to try to speak to Thorin, so a fool he must be.

It was midday when the gate opened and Thorin came out in a rush.

"Your majesty," Bard called to him. "I have need to talk to you."

"I cannot stop nor speak now," Thorin said, pulling his cloak around him and barely acknowledging the King of Dale.

Bard sighed and leaned back against the stone of the mountain. He would not leave, for if Thorin went out he was sure to come back in. He would be outside the gates when that happened, ready to speak to the King Under the Mountain.

ooo

Thorin met Timor that day at the elder dwarrow's request. Timor had taken to fishing for sport at the lake, and it was there Thorin found him.

"Ah, your majesty," Timor said with a nod of his head. "I take it you've seen the new figures that Gloin has posted?"

Thorin took a deep breath. He'd had a terrible feeling the meeting was about this. "Yes, unfortunately, I have," Thorin answered, taking to pacing. "I had hoped to reduce the loan from Dain by now."

Timor shrugged. "Aye, well," he sighed. "It's a pity so much of it is tied up in the new machinery for the forge."

Thorin paused. "We needed the new machinery because we were doing well. We had large orders. Obviously I was not expecting to not be able to fulfill the contracts."

Timor shook his head. "But you've been back to work for a good while now since the uprising."

"But we're still behind on the orders, and we will not catch up for-" Thorin stopped and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to do the sums. "In truth, it is not looking like we will catch up."

Timor drew his line back in empty and refitted it with new bait. "Well, Dain will extend the loan temporarily. But you'll have to be careful, Thorin."

Thorin had to try hard to refrain from yelling. "I don't think anyone has ever accused me of being careless! Or frivolous! Forgive me, I do not know how I could have prevented this or what to do next."

Timor looked around conspiratorily as though he was afraid of someone overhearing him. "Well, I've heard Balin talk," he said. "I've heard him talk of a strong desire to retake Khazad-dum. If he were to do so and find mithril... You can imagine the benefit."

Thorin shook his head. "I'll not risk it. Neither my money nor my people on such a scheme."

Timor chuckled and cast his line back out. "Well, if matters carry on like this, you might not have anything left to risk."

ooo

Thorin returned to the mountain with his blood boiling. He was getting less and less fond of both Timor and Las the longer they stayed in Erebor.

He almost charged straight back into the mountain without looking left or right and would have if Bard had not grabbed his attention. "Your majesty?" he said.

"Mahal!" Thorin exclaimed under his breath. "Are you still here?"

Bard bowed. "Yes, your majesty. I want to speak to you."

Thorin paused a moment before letting the corner of his mouth twitch upward. "Well then," he sighed. "You had better come in."


	17. Chapter 17

Thorin did not speak until he and Bard had arrived in the throne room and he had taken his seat on the throne. Even then, he looked down at Bard with a critical eye for some time before uttering a sound. "Well, Bard," Thorin began. "What do you want with me?"

Bard cleared his throat. "We have a duty to our peoples, Thorin," he said. "I know that the uprising was hard on both of our kingdoms-"

"You needn't remind me of the hardships the uprising entailed," Thorin interrupted. "What do you want?"

Bard took a breath. "I wish to re-establish the relationship between our kingdoms as it used to be."

"Re-establish relations?" Thorin repeated. "You have got a nerve."

Thorin could not help but notice Bard flexing his hands in and out of fists. "I know I have not the way with words that my daughter has," he said through his teeth, "but my intentions are every bit as pure in this pursuit. And as she is enduring a long recovery, I wish to take her place."

But Thorin shook his head. "I am not sure you would like to hear all that I have to say about you and your way with words," he said. "I've had to turn away a hundred of the mountain's best mercenaries and tradesmen for following you and your ideas of an uprising. And you think I should welcome you into the mountain to discuss peace now? I may as well cast all of our metals into the sea and be done with it."

With some hesitation, Bard nodded and turned on his heel to leave. He had not gotten far, however, when he turned back and marched back to the throne. "I swear to you, Thorin, that I would not speak ill of you to any. If I found anything wrong, I'd warn you before taking action. I'm a steady man. I would work endlessly to see the friendship of our kingdoms restored. Both of our kingdoms will hurt if we refuse to try."

Thorin sneered. "How do I know that you're not just planning mischief? Or biding your time and saving up money against another uprising?"

"I have in my care the six children of a dwarrow who died of late," Bard answered swiftly. "They shall always have a profound connection to their people that reside here, and I would not give up that friendship so carelessly. Not again. Their father was driven mad. Any work that might have been his was taken by the Southrons you hired."

Thorin gripped the armrests of his throne. "Your uprising forced me into hiring those Southrons!" Thorin answered. "Much good it did me... Most have returned home. If I were to believe your reason, I can't say that I'm inclined to. I'd advise you to perhaps leave the title of ambassador to one more fit to carry it."

"If there were some other man to whom I could trust the keeping of my kingdom, I would see him crowned tomorrow and never come here again," Bard said. "But when those children look to the East and begin to wonder what kin they might have had or where their true home - the home of their fathers - lies, I'd be a bargeman again just to give them the chance to know."

"You'd take a bargeman's wage?" Thorin questioned, quirking a brow. "Last I heard, you were unsatisfied with those wages. Your uprising would have been down like a hammer on the Southrons that were merely trying to feed their families, and yet you'd do this for these children? I'll not talk peace with you. You are wasting your time."

Bard nodded, a bitter smile on his face. "And yours," he said. "I was told to ask you this by a hobbit. Thought you had a kindness about you. I thought if any would know of simple kindness, a hobbit might. But he was mistaken. That's alright. It wouldn't be the first time I was misled."

"Tell this hobbit to mind his own business next time and stop wasting your time and mine," Thorin snapped.

Bard bowed and turned around to leave with certain finality.

Once Bard had gone and Thorin was alone, he reached up to touch a closed fist to his lips and heave a deep breath. There was no other hobbit, of course, that Bard could have been speaking of. If Bilbo thought he had a kindness about him, it was the first Thorin had heard of it. But he had determined to purge all thoughts of Bilbo Baggins from his head. No matter how much it pained him, he would think of Bilbo no more.

ooo

It had begun to snow heavily when Bilbo ducked into a local shop on the streets of Dale for shelter, shaking his hair clear of the white powder and rubbing his arms to warm himself.

"Well, Mr. Baggins!" Fili's voice made Bilbo look up.

"Fili!" Bilbo returned. "Hullo! I didn't know you were in Dale."

Fili leaned forward conspiratorily. "Yes, well, there is a lady here I could not and will not be kept away from."

It was only then that from the shelves of the shop, Sigrid emerged, looking a little tired but as well as she ever had otherwise. "Good morning, Bilbo," she said.

Bilbo was overjoyed. "Oh, my dear girl!" he said, hurrying to hug her. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you out!"

Sigrid laughed. "And I cannot tell you how glad I am to be out again," she said. "But you had better hurry and buy what you want now. I'm afraid Fili is going to buy up the whole shop."

"How can I help it?" Fili defended. "She's welcome to have anything she wants. I'd buy her the sky without caring if Uncle raged like a dragon the whole while."

Sigrid blushed and swatted at his arm goodnaturedly. "Thank you!" she said. "You're making a spectacle." Still, she was smiling as she moved back through the shelves.

"Does Thorin know then?" Bilbo asked. "About the pair of you?"

Fili shrugged. "I've all but told him directly. He'll know for certain soon enough. I mean to marry her, Bilbo."

Bilbo smiled. "Then I am happy for you."

"Mind you," Fili continued, "Timor will think it all very crass, and he fancies himself Uncle's chief advisor. He's been trying to interest Uncle in a quest to reclaim Khazad-dum. Ah, that's Moria, if you will."

"Moria?" Bilbo repeated. "Excuse me. I didn't think that Thorin would participate in any kind of risky venture."

Fili considered this. "Well, he's done it before. Reclaiming Erebor was risk, of course. Not that I necessarily think that he would do it again now that he has his home back. All the same, Timor thinks he ought to be more modern in his ideas if he's to keep up with Dain and the rest. I say we are quite rich enough to keep on as we have."

This seemed doubtful to Bilbo, but he held his tongue.

ooo

Thorin and Dis were far more accepting of Fili's intent to marry Sigrid than Fili had expected. That is only to say that they did not reject the idea out of hand. The pair of them questioned him for hours as though he was a prisoner under interrogation. How long had they been planning this? Why hadn't they said anything before? Fili held his chin high all the while and refused to be persuaded against the idea.

After a full week of nearly constant questioning, they seemed to have run out of questions. And having run out of questions, they could do nothing but be satisfied with the situation. They required much assuring that Sigrid was, in fact, Fili's One. They also required that Sigrid visit them in the mountain to become better acquainted with the soon-to-be new member of the family. Dis had never spoken to her save the regular pleasantries that royals exchanged.

They hosted a small banquet for Sigrid the following week, and the only person who seemed to be ill at ease all the while was Fili. Later, Sigrid would admit to her betrothed that she had been shaking like a dead leaf in an autumn wind, even if he could not tell. Yet, by the end of the affair, Dis had a good opinion of the princess, and Sigrid had a healthy respect for her future mother-in-law.

"I had nearly forgotten how skilled Sigrid is with her words. It is a shame that this marriage would mean she could not be ambassador anymore." This was Thorin's comment when Sigrid had left the mountain. "And that is a shame. I think there could be none better from Dale."

"It is a shame her father can not be held in the same trust," Dis remarked. Thorin merely hummed at this.

Fili shook his head. "I shall thank you not to speak ill of my One's family," he said sharply. Then his voice softened. "But I shall also thank you for welcoming her kindly and making her comfortable here. I know that it is not an easy thing to understand that my One is not a dwarrow."

Thorin shifted in his seat, but Fili did not notice.

Dis gave her brother a careful look before turning back to Fili. "I mean never to become a point of contention between you and your happiness, dear one," she said. "Though be warned that others may look on it strangely."

Fili shrugged. "I have all of the approval that I need on my part," he said. "Yours, Amad. And yours, Uncle. Kili, I know, has been with me since he learned of it some time ago. I even have the approval of Bilbo Baggins, if you can believe it."

Thorin furrowed his brow and leaned forward in his chair. "Bilbo?"

"Well, yes," Fili said. "I saw him in a shop the day I told you. He offered us his congratulations, of course."

"Ah," Thorin said.

The room went quiet for a while until Fili spoke again. "I wonder if Bilbo will ever marry."

"What makes you wonder?" Thorin questioned slowly.

Fili shrugged. "Well, from what I understand, hobbits are expected to marry quite young. And he is more mature than I am for his kind. But perhaps not. He can be rather severe at times. I told him about how Timor supports Balin's plans for Khazad-dum, and he really shot down the idea. He as much said you wouldn't be interested as if he knew you better than me, Uncle."

Thorin leaned back in his chair. "I'll thank you not to discuss the mountain's business affairs in the streets, Fili," he grumbled, taking out his pipe. "You do a fine enough job spending our resources."

Fili hesitated. "I cannot say that I know everything there is to be known about Khazad-dum," he admitted, "but would it not be wise to consider Balin's proposition? Surely, you can be certain-"

"Nothing is certain in such matters, Fili," Thorin responded. "You will do well to learn this now. I will not risk the lives and livelihood of any dwarrow in this mountain for Balin's pipedreams. This is not a matter of money alone. There is too much at stake."

Fili nodded and retired for the night. When he was gone, Dis stood and walked over to stand by Thorin's chair. "Is the venture really so risky?" she questioned in a low voice.

"Do you really need to ask that, Dis?" Thorin returned. "If it succeeds, all our financial problems will be over and no one will ever know how bad things are. But as I said: this is not strictly a money matter. Erebor is ours once again, and I will not send good dwarrow to certain doom. You would not advise me otherwise, would you?"

Dis shrugged, and she looked more like her sons than ever. "If you succeeded, they'd never know."

"And if it fails, I will have injured others," Thorin insisted. "Would you have me risk that?"

Dis hummed and began to pace the room. Then she stopped. "Tell me what to do."

Thorin shook his head. "Pray to Mahal for a good year in which people all over the world begin once again to see the merits of dwarven goods. Pray that our buyers pay their bills in time... and pray that Fili does not want an over-extravagant wedding."

For once, Dis laughed.


	18. Chapter 18

Thorin did not know what brought him to Dale. Since any talk of an uprising had quieted, he had had few complaints from the dwarrow that represented him there, and there was nothing else that usually brought him there. Nothing except his visits to the Bagginses home, and he had all but given those up. No, he did not know what brought him to Dale, but the hungry faces of small human children kept him there. He put a gold coin in every outstretched hand, remembering Bard's words. If he refused to treat with the Men of Dale, both kingdoms would suffer.

At length, he found himself before the very door of the Great House. Steeling himself, he knocked, and it was not long before King Bard himself answered. Bard did not say a word, but he offered a tight-lipped smile and moved to allow Thorin inside.

Inside, true to Bard's word, there were six dwarrow children huddled around the hearth of the sitting room. The Princess Tilda was sitting with one young dwarrow lad, a book in hand as the boy tried to sound out his letters.

"I can see these are not your children," Thorin remarked.

"No," Bard returned. "But they are mine now."

Thorin nodded. "Your daughter is teaching them to read Westron?"

Bard smiled fondly. "As much as they are teaching her to speak Khuzdul, if you'll pardon them."

Thorin nodded. "Then these are the children you mentioned before?"

"Did you not believe me?"

Thorin winced and took a deep breath. "I spoke to you in a way that I had no right to. I did not believe you. I could not have taken care of a dwarrow such as Binur's children. I have made inquiries, and I know now that you spoke the truth."

"And by inquiries, I assume you mean to say that you asked Sigrid while she was in the mountain?"

Thorin nodded.

"Well," Bard said, "Binur's dead, and I am sorry. But that's the end of it."

Thorin looked Bard square in the eye. "Will you come to represent your people in the mountain? That's what I came to ask."

Bard considered this. "You've called me impudent, a liar, a mischief-maker," he said. "But for the sake of these children, do you think we could get along?"

Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Well, it is not my proposal that we might get on well."

Bard paused a moment for taking a deep breath. "What can I ask for beyond this? I shall come to the mountain, Thorin," he decided at last. "And what is more, I shall thank you for the chance, and that is a great deal from me."

Thorin gave a small smile and extended his arm for Bard to grasp. "And this is a great deal from me," he said. "We shall expect you in the mountain at the regular time. Mind you're not late, your majesty. And the first time I catch you using your wits to cause trouble, off you go."

Bard laughed. "I suppose I shall leave my wits at home, then."

"At your service," Thorin said with a nod, and turned to leave. At the door, he paused and turned back. "It was Bilbo who told you to come to me, was it not? There could be no other, of course. But you might have said as much."

Bard smirked. "And if I had mentioned him, would you then have been more civil?"

Thorin did not answer but gave Bard a warning look before walking out the door. Inside the Great House, Bard's smirk broke into a smile and a laugh to himself.

ooo

Beyond pleasantries, Bilbo was silent as the grave when he brought Thorin into the house that evening. His heart was thumping like a rabbit's and he could not bring himself to meet Thorin's eyes. He was sure that Thorin had no desire to speak to him, in any case. Had he not made as much clear before?

"My mother is waiting in the sitting room," Bilbo said.

He waited for Thorin to leave that instant, but he did not. "I thought you might like to know that I've decided to allow King Bard back into the mountain to resume diplomacy," Thorin said.

Bilbo chanced to look up and found that Thorin was looking at him with searching eyes. The look in those eyes overwhelmed him, and he looked back down at his feet. "I am glad of it," he squeaked.

"I thought you might be," Thorin said. "It was you, after all, who urged him to come to me."

"Did that make you more or less willing to bring him in?" Bilbo questioned.

Thorin took a breath. "I don't know," he admitted. "But it is no longer of any consequence. We've made our arrangements, and nothing will change them now. I won't turn him away."

Bilbo nodded. "I wouldn't think you capable of that," he assured him. "I have a better opinion of you than you do of me at the moment, I feel."

It was then that Thorin turned on his heel and went away to the sitting room, leaving Bilbo where he was.

Now, Bilbo looked up at the empty air where Thorin had been and wished for the first time that he was standing there still.

ooo

Before second breakfast the next morning, as Bilbo was tending his garden, Belladonna came to him with a cup of coffee that Bilbo accepted gratefully.

"Bilbo, my lad," she said. "You are not obliged to answer this question, but... Do you have any reason for thinking that Thorin cared for you?"

Bilbo paused his work and looked up at his mother. How she had discovered such a thing, he did not know. But there was no concealing it anymore. "Mother," he replied gravely. "I am sorry."

Belladonna's eyes widened. "Ah, you rejected him then?" she pressed.

Bilbo could only nod as he looked back down at the weeds in his hands. "I should have told you," he whispered.

"Oh, no, no, no," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "It's just that it would account for him not coming to the house as much as he used. And I do value his company and conversation, especially now that... Well, now that your father is gone. But, um, if you feel uncomfortable in his presence, I'll ask him not to come to the house again! I mean, I'm sure you were honest with him. That's the most important thing."

"I've done nothing that I wouldn't do again," Bilbo said, returning diligently to his work to avoid any further conversation on the subject. Yet, as he said it, he was unsure if he was trying to convince his mother or himself.

ooo

Some days later, Bard came to the house with all nine of his children for dinner. Bilbo prepared the food and pretended to be frazzled from the work, but secretly he enjoyed it. It was good to see the children with their bellies full and to see Bard smiling through the meal from a good day in the mountain.

When dinner was over, Belladonna took most of the children to the sitting room to entertain them while Bard and Bilbo remained in the dining room. However, one of Binur's children, young Timi, would absolutely not be parted from Bard. So, Bard kept the lad seated on his knee while he and Bilbo talked.

"I've not had such a good dinner in some time," Bard said. "I've been so busy in the mountain, I haven't had the time to cook a proper meal. And to put it gently, Sigrid's skills lie outside the kitchen."

Bilbo chuckled. "Then you are a model ambassador to the mountain, I take it?"

"Until either Bain or Tilda can take the role, I must be," Bard said. "I will give Thorin no reason to complain. After all, he is working as hard as I am to keep the peace now. And I do not have a forge to run as well as a kingdom. Sometimes I don't think he sleeps from one day to the next. And he's taking interest in young Timi, saying he's got to have a good education. Thorin is a strange one to me. I cannot quite make him out."

Bilbo poured some tea into Bard's empty cup. "Well, well," he said. "How are you ever going to try another uprising with talk like that? Not thinking so badly of the Old Dragon himself?"

Timi tugged on the lapels of Bard's coat. "Sig says we shouldn't say 'Old Dragon'," he whispered.

Bard laughed and ruffled Timi's lucky yellow hair. "It's alright, Timi," he said. "Something tells me that Mr. Bilbo does not mean it badly. He's as fond of Thorin as I may one day learn to be."

For reasons unknown to Bilbo, the remark brought color to his cheeks, and he had to take a sip of his tea to hide it.

ooo

Anyone could see that young Timi, son of Binur, was attached to Bard like a shadow, following wherever he went. Thorin had noticed him from the very start when Bard would come into the mountain. The young lad always sat at Bard's right hand, quiet as the grave but always with wide and curious eyes. Whether Bard was due to meet with Nori or Dori or Dwalin or Balin or Thorin himself, Timi seemed to absorb everything he heard with great interest.

The first time Thorin ever saw Timi by himself was on the steps of the palace in the evening when Bard should have already left the mountain for the day. Yet, there the lad was with a book in his hands, trying with some difficulty to make out the words.

"The fun- funny," Timi stuttered aloud, completely absorbed in the book "Ana- Ani-"

"A-ni-mals," Thorin finished for him as he took a seat next to the lad. "What are you doing here? Where's Bard?"

Timi had gone silent, but he shrugged.

Thorin raised a brow. "Have you had your supper?"

Timi shook his head. "Bain went to the butcher, but he didn't do dinner," he answered in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

It was then that Bard came up, and Thorin stood as he approached. "You should have been gone already, your majesty," Thorin said, folding his arms over his chest. "What are you up to?"

Bard ruffled Timi's hair and scooped him up on his shoulders. "Ah, the meeting with Gloin went overtime, and I stopped to speak to Bombur on the way back."

Thorin furrowed his brows. "You are under no obligation to stay here to manage affairs past the appointed time."

"But you must stay here to manage affairs all of the time, your majesty," Bard pointed out. "But it is as I said before: if our kingdoms are not good neighbors, they will both suffer greatly. And when our kingdoms suffer, then who shall see that young Timi is fed?"

"He's not had his supper tonight, he's been telling me," Thorin said.

Bard nodded. "Well, some days there is good meat. Other days, there is nothing fit for a dog, whether you're royalty or not. There's your market forces in action for you, Thorin."

Thorin was silent a moment. "It's a pity you can't get up some scheme. Buy food wholesale, cook for twenty instead of one. Then everybody would be able to afford a good meal a day and then you'd have fit minds to do studying." This last part he said with a smile to Timi who smiled back and promptly hid his face in Bard's hair.

"Careful, your majesty," Bard said with no true warning in his tone. "Someone might pass that talk along to the other Dwarf Lords."

Thorin shrugged. "If our Men eat well, they will work well. And that will please the Dwarf Lords, too, unless they are idiots. Which some of them are."

Bard considered this a moment. "We would need somewhere to cook. There's a clearing just inside the mountain gates where a few strong workers could put up a kitchen and place to dine in less than two days."

Thorin did Bard the honor of looking impressed. He was impressed. "You did bring your wits with you today, didn't you, Bard?" he remarked.

Bard smiled. "Well, I try to keep them hidden, but I can't do without them altogether."

Thorin nodded. "You get some figures up, speak to Bombur again, and we'll see. No promises, mind," he said. Then he sighed. "Well, I am tired of ruling for today. Come with me, and bring Timi. Let us see if we cannot find you a good supper to eat."


	19. Chapter 19

_Dearest Bilbo,_

_Frodo cries that he cannot remember what his Uncle Bilbo looks like. Well, seeing that he can only said his first words yesterday, he has not told me so directly. But I know in my heart that is why! I can see it as clear as the blue in his eyes! It is so freezing in Buckland. I can't wait for spring. You must have icicles on your nose in Dale for it must be even more arctic up there! Couldn't you try to brave the journey and visit us soon? And persuade Aunt Belladonna to come with you._

Bilbo smiled as he read Primula's letter, but he could already plan the response. No, he would not be able to come soon, but he would inform her as soon as he had the chance. Something in him still wanted to be close to the mountain, just for the time being. The Men and Dwarfs had begun to be friendly with each other again, and Bilbo had no desire to miss it. Why, if rumors were true, there was to be a meal house for all the Men of Dale that worked in the mountain! After such hardship, nothing brought Bilbo greater joy than to see such camaraderie.

And besides, his mother was in no state to travel anywhere, much less all the way to Buckland. She found such solace in her work, that he was honestly afraid of what might happen if she decided to abandon it. No, he would not take her away from her friends. They both had a desire, Bilbo felt, to stay near Erebor. Even if it was every bit as cold as Primula had suggested. Bilbo wanted to be close to the mountain.

ooo

Bard stopped in the door of the meal house when he saw Thorin walking past. "Your majesty!" he called. "Will you come in? There's stew today."

Thorin stopped and walked close to the door. "Aye, I can smell it," he said. "I haven't had a hearty stew in a while."

Bard crossed his arms. "I'll wager you've not eaten all day."

Thorin shook his head. "No, no," he admitted. "I've been too busy."

Bard inclined his head to the inside of the meal. He had no further questions. If Thorin tried to resist, he would only insist on it all the more.

Luckily, Thorin knew what was good for him and did not resist. He followed Bard inside and pretended not to notice when the chattering voices of the Men went silent. He heard only one voice say in a whisper: "It's the kings! Both of them."

"Well, afternoon, Majesties!" Bombur said from behind the counter with a jolly laugh. Tilda was standing with him, serving ladle in hand "I was wondering which meal of mine might convince ye to condescend from on high! Young Princess Tilda made a good choice when she said coney stew for today, aye?" He turned to Tilda with a wink and she giggled.

Then, all of the Men resumed their chatter, and all was normal as Bard and Thorin sat at a table. Tilda was there in a second with bowls and spoons and stew for them. Bard took a bite and hummed in contentment. "There's not much that can contend with good dwarven food," he said.

Thorin nodded. "And you'll not find a better cook than Bombur," he said. "But I didn't know your daughter was here helping him."

"Ah, Tilda," Bard said, looking over to where his daughter stood on a stool, putting herbs into a large steaming pot. "She's had to come into her own since her sister became ill. She's a good girl, and I don't doubt she'll make a fair ambassador someday. She says that's what she wants to do, anyway. That's why she's here. I thought it would do her good to learn about dwarven ways first hand."

"And your son?"

Bard smiled. "Bain's almost a man now. It's time for me to train him to be king if I can. Today, he has taken charge of the rations in Dale, but I reckon that with this meal house there will be less and less need for rationing the food."

Thorin nodded. "Well then," he said. "It seems Men and Dwarves can work together for mutual good."

Bard laughed. "Who would have believed it?" he said. "And may Aule bless it."

"Aye," Thorin agreed, raising his cup. "Mahal bless it."

ooo

Fili and Sigrid were married on a Sunday on the border of Dale and Erebor. It was not an extravagant wedding, but it was beautiful. A canopy of silver-green and Durin blue linens covered the couple, and there was a sweet silence as the marriage braids were placed in both bride and groom's hair according to the dwarrow custom. Rings also were exchanged according to the custom of the Men of Dale, sealing their marriage before Mahal for both of their lifetimes. After that ceremony, there was another in which Sigrid was crowned by Thorin with a circlet of gold and silver as Crown Princess of Erebor.

Though the wedding and coronation themselves were quiet, solemn, and simple, the celebrations afterward were anything but. Horns blew, and bells rang for hours, letting all the people of both the mountain and Dale know that the day was joyful. There was music and dancing in every corner of the East. Even Thorin was persuaded to play his harp for those who were in the couple's private party. Bilbo found he loved the sound of it.

Ales and ciders flowed freely that day, and enough sweets to make a hobbit sick for days. Small, colored beads of glass were often thrown into the air for anyone to catch and keep. Each blessing given to the couple was followed by a hearty cheer from the crowds.

For the first time since Bilbo had known her, Sigrid's cheeks were pink and healthy as a rose; and a smile stayed on her face the whole of the day. Anytime someone managed to pull Fili away from his new bride for even a moment, all they heard was the young prince boasting of how lucky he was to have such a wife.

Belladonna had joined in a lively dwarven circle dance that lasted longer than she could have anticipated, but she seemed to enjoy it so Bilbo clapped along to the music and cheered her on. When the dance ended, she took her seat on the stool next to Bilbo, breathing hard with her hand on her heart. "Oh," she huffed. "I forget I am much too old for this kind of thing. I don't think my poor heart could take another jig. It's ever so fluttery right now."

Bilbo tried not to let the comment concern him. "It's good to see you happy and enjoying yourself again, mother," he said and poured her a cider.

"I've always loved a wedding," she said, taking a greedy gulp out of the mug Bilbo gave her. "But I should save my energy in case I ever see yours. I shall be even merrier at that one."

Bilbo laughed. "You know as well as I that I am not likely to wed," he said. "And besides, who would have a grander wedding than a prince and princess?"

Belladonna stuck out her lower lip and shrugged. "A king's wedding might be grander," she mused.

Bilbo nearly choked on his cider, but he did not comment.

Dis sat across the table from the two hobbits, and Belladonna raised her mug to the princess. "Your highness!" she said. "Pass on my congratulations to your son! I'm sure it's a very good match!"

Dis returned the toast. "It was made by Mahal," she agreed with a small but genuine smile. "There can be none better."

"Tell me," Belladonna continued. "How is Thorin? I haven't seen him all these winter months. I hope he is not ill."

Dis shook her head. "My brother works hard, Mistress Baggins. He is never ill. Look! There he is now just behind you."

Belladonna looked over her shoulder, and Bilbo could not help but do the same. Yes, there was Thorin standing by Fili and laughing. Bilbo could not remember ever seeing him laugh so heartily. The sight fixed his gaze, and he could not look away.

"Oh, yes!" Belladonna said. "There he is, indeed! I say, isn't that Las daughter of Timor with him?"

It was only as she said that Bilbo shifted his eyes. Yes, there was Las at Thorin's side, as brilliant as a dwarrowdam could ever be.

Belladonna leaned in to whisper to Bilbo. "Why, Bilbo, we may be able to attend a king's wedding after all," she said.

Bilbo swallowed hard, and his stomach turned over. "Wonderful," he said sharply. Without another word, he stood abruptly, drained his mug of the remaining cider, and joined the next dance.

ooo

The festivities continued for many days afterward, but Belladonna and Bilbo left in the early morning of the first day, returning to the quiet peace of their home. Once again, Bilbo's ideas of a quiet wedding for himself were reinforced. Bilbo went straight through to his room, collapsed on his bed, and was asleep in seconds. He was far too tired to even change out of his party clothes.

It was nearly past time for dinner when he woke again, and his head was pounding. He groaned and stretched, trying to work up the will to leave the comfort of his plump feathered pillows. In the end, it was the smell of fried fish wafting in from the kitchen that roused him.

He changed slowly and shuffled through the house to the kitchen where Belladonna sat at the table reading a letter with furrowed brows. There was already a fish plated for him with some chips, and she absently pushed it in Bilbo's direction along with a concoction - a secret family recipe - to cure his headache.

"Thank you," Bilbo said after he downed the vile concoction in a single gulp. "Didn't you sleep at all, mother?"

"Hmm?" Belladonna hummed, looking up from her letter. "Oh, yes. A little. Dreadful uncomfortable, I'm afraid."

Bilbo took a bite of his fish and gestured to the letter. "Who is that from? Prim?"

Belladonna sighed and folded the parchment up. "No, it's from Gandalf. It seems he is hosting another adventure, and many of my friends are sure to join. They are going to Lothlorien."

This gave Bilbo pause. "And you mean to join them?"

"I think I will. Oh, don't give me that look. I can see plain as plain that you're worried about me, but you shouldn't be. I know that I am not quite so young as I was, but Gandalf will keep me in order, I'm sure. He always has, you know; and Lothlorien is not a place where evil can enter. I'll be back before you can wrinkle your nose."

It was clear that she had already made up her mind before telling Bilbo a thing about it. There was nothing he could say to persuade her against it, and he knew it. So, he sighed in resignation. "As you wish, mother."

Belladonna smiled and reached across the table to pat Bilbo's hand. "There, there. It's decided. I can give my pupils a holiday for a few weeks, and... Well, now that Thorin has stopped coming to visit... Oh, I am worried about him."

Bilbo furrowed his brows. "Why? He seemed in perfect health when we last saw him. And surely the mountain cannot be doing poorly with all that gold inside?"

"But I'm afraid the mountain is doing poorly," Belladonna sighed. "The cost of rebuilding two kingdoms and the royal forge rather took its toll on the gold hordes. But it is his spirit I really fear for. After his father and grandfather died, he struggled for years to build everything up again. He raised his family from poverty. How much worse to be brought low a second time! I know what it is to disappoint one's family... He will feel bitterly that he has failed his sister."

Bilbo smiled. "I rather doubt he could ever fail in her eyes."

ooo

The following week, Belladonna stood with Bilbo on the doorstep of the house, ready to go off. She pulled her gloves on over trembling hands and sighed. "Now, it's my turn to leave you, my lad," she said. "To tell the truth, I am a little nervous."

Bilbo smiled as he stuffed a handkerchief into the pouch around her wrist. It would not do well to go without a proper handkerchief. "Don't worry, mother," he said. "It's natural to wonder whether a place where you were happy so many years ago will be the same. But from what you've told me of Lothlorien, it is doubtful such beauty will fade. And once you're there with Gandalf, you'll have a wonderful time. Now, wrap up warm. It's still very chilly."

Belladonna obediently tightened the scarf around her neck and leaned forward to kiss Bilbo on the cheek. "Goodbye, Bilbo, my lad. I love you terribly."

Bilbo wrapped his mother in his arms and gave her a tight squeeze. "Goodbye, mother. I love you, too."

Without another word but with a smile to melt all the snow of Dale, Belladonna took up her pack and walked down the road, turning back only once to wave goodbye.


	20. Chapter 20

Galadriel herself greeted the small party that had come with Gandalf to Lothlorien, and Belladonna was once again struck dumb by her beauty. How she shone with pure sunlight! How elegantly she moved through the trees! The rest of the party that had accompanied them were all elves. Belladonna thought that they did not seem as appreciative as they should have been of the beauty all around them.

The Lady took Gandalf's hands as she greeted him and smiled warmly, but what she said, Belladonna could not hear. One by one, Galadriel spoke to each of the party until at last, she came to Belladonna. She crouched to look the hobbit in the eye and took her hand. It was warm and as smooth as it had ever been.

"Welcome Belladonna of the Shire," she said in that soothing alto voice that Belladonna had long missed. "It has been many years since you came to us, my dear friend. It gladdens my heart that you have chosen to spend these days in our company."

Belladonna laid her spare hand over Galadriel's. "I feel I have missed your woods from the moment I left them," she said. "It is a great comfort to find everything unchanged. As unchanged as you are, my lady."

Galadriel laughed then like a chorus of bells, and it lifted Belladonna's spirit all the more. The Lady stood upright and addressed the entire party. "You are weary from traveling. Tonight you will stay here in Caras Galadhon where you will be tended to by the hospitality of the Galadhrim. You need only ask for whatever you may need."

When she had thus said, an elf called Haldir came to lead the party away. Gandalf, however, stayed behind to speak further to Galadriel. Belladonna thought nothing of it. One thing she had learned about Gandalf was that he never arranged an adventure without having some purpose of his own.

Later, when she asked for it, Belladonna was provided with a pen and parchment, and she found a patch of downy grass bathed in sunlight where she might sit down to write. How much there was to write about! And she would put it all in her memoirs which she kept in a journal that was with her at all times. But before all that, she began a letter to Bilbo.

She began to notice that her script was more spidery than it usually was, and she frowned at it as Gandalf approached to sit beside her.

"Good gracious me," Gandalf said. "That letter must have given you great insult for you to frown like that."

"Ah," Belladonna said. "My hand is treacherously shaky today, I'm afraid. I wonder if I wouldn't benefit from some of those smelling salts that Bungo keeps - that Bungo kept in the cupboard above the sink."

Gandalf looked over at Belladonna from the corner of his eye. "Smelling salts don't help shaking hands, dear Belladonna. No more than adventures really help aching hearts."

Belladonna did not look up at Gandalf and began plucking at the grass.

"To whom are you addressing that letter, might I ask?" Gandalf expertly changed the subject.

Now Belladonna did look up to Gandalf with a smile. "It's for Bilbo, of course. He's my main concern now," she said. Then her smile fell again. "I worry. Caring for me gives him a sense of purpose, I think. And I believe the only reason he carried on when Bungo died was that he knew I was still there to look after. But I worry about him when... Well, when I'm gone."

"Come, come, there is yet time before then," Gandalf said. "And besides, it is all settled. I shall keep an eye on him. Both eyes. As often as I can spare them. When the time comes for you to leave this earth, do not be afraid. Bilbo shall want for nothing."

Belladonna gave him an appreciative look. "I feel you care for him better than I do at times," she said.

"Nonsense," Gandalf. "I thought you had put all that talk behind you, but then what should I expect? You are rather a fool of a Took." This last sentence he said fondly, and it brought older times to Belladonna's mind. When she was very young and Gandalf had whisked her off on her very first adventure, he seemed to call her a fool of a Took more than he ever used her name. Even when she became a Baggins, the nickname had not died off.

As she pondered this, Gandalf considered her. "You know," he said, "I rather think these past few weeks have done you a world of good. You look years younger."

Belladonna tapped her pen to her chin. "Yes..." she said. "Yes, I feel it. I feel as though. Well, forgive me if this sounds silly... I feel that I have come home."

ooo

Bilbo had gotten a bundle of letters from his mother since she had been away, and another was always welcome. She described the golden woods of Lothlorien so vividly, it was almost as though he was walking through them with her. He did feel a good deal of warmth in his heart when he read them, in any case. He did not know why he had been so worried for her to go. What better place was there for her to be?

This he pondered as he looked out the window of the sitting room to the streets of Dale. They had become ever so much friendlier since relations with the mountain had improved. No, they were still not green, but the lanterns made the gold seem warmer than it had before. And there was Gandalf walking up the path.

Gandalf? Bilbo looked again. Yes, it was Gandalf.

The wizard saw Bilbo looking at him through the window, and he took off his great hat and held it to his chest. His face was solemn. No, not solemn. It was somber. It was pitying.

Bilbo looked on either side of him and found no sign of a hobbit traveling with him. Where was Belladonna? Where was his mother?

ooo

"It was very unexpected how her heart gave out," Gandalf was saying. He and Bilbo were in the sitting room, and Bilbo had covered his face in his hands, hiding the tears and muffling the pitiful sobs. Gandalf kept his hand on Bilbo's back, only hoping that he could provide some comfort. He had seen so much death in his life, but the loss of Belladonna would be the most difficult to bear. "Many of the very wisest could not see that end. I confess that I did not because I did not wish to."

Bilbo shook his head and lifted it up. "It - It's my - It's my fault," he sobbed. "I - I should have never let her go. She was too weak, I could see that. I'm her son! I knew she should not go."

Gandalf took both of Bilbo's shoulders in his hands. "Now, Bilbo," he said. "It was not your doing. It was not even the adventure's doing. These things cannot always be helped, and you cannot shoulder the blame alone. Your mother had made up her mind to go, for of all the places in the wide world, she loved the woods Lothlorien best. You may take comfort, then, that she was happy there before the end."

With his sleeved, Bilbo wiped the tears from his eyes and sniffed. "Tell me how it happened," he demanded. "Exactly how it happened."

Gandalf hesitated a moment before nodding. "She was at dinner when the pains started. She did not tell me, but I saw it in her face that she was suffering a great discomfort. She retired early that night, and she found me when she woke early that morning.

"'Gandalf,' she said to me, 'There is something not quite right. That is, I think there is something quite wrong. I feel as though there is a knife through my heart.'

"So, I took her to the healing places, and Galadriel - the Lady of Lorien herself - tended her there. Your mother thought everything in Lorien to be beautiful, even the healing rooms. 'Oh, I wish Bilbo could see all of this,' she said. 'He would love it even better than I, I think.'

"Her heart stopped several times that day, and she became more weakened with every hour. When it became doubtful that she would survive the next bout of pain, I told her that it may be that neither I nor Lady Galadriel possessed enough power to save her life.

"In a quiet voice she said, 'Oh, I see,' and took a shuddering breath. I shall not forget her next words, Bilbo. She said to me: 'It is alright, Gandalf. I'm sure you'll try your best, and if it doesn't work, then it must not be meant to work. That is the way of the world sometimes. I am not scared, you know. Do you think that strange? I feel as though I have been on a long journey, and I am now meeting Death on a fork in the road. It seems as though he is inviting me to travel with him for a while, and offering to take some of the burdens I have long carried. I shall see Bungo, of course, and I have missed him terribly. Do you think Bilbo will understand if I do not try very hard to hold on? I love him, but I am tired. Oh, listen to me carrying on so. Now, you think me as cracked as my old relatives did.

"But I did not, Bilbo. At that moment, a simple hobbit from the Shire spoke the wise words that Nienna herself might. She passed not long after that. Her one request before she died was that Galadriel stay to hold her hand and sing to her, which the Lady did without a moment's hesitation. She was smiling until the very last, Bilbo. You would have smiled, too, to see her at such peace."

All of this overwhelmed Bilbo, and he collapsed against Gandalf. "It is only that I was not ready," Bilbo said. His voice was hoarse and quiet. "I wish I might have held on to her a little longer when she was last on the doorstep. But you comfort me, Gandalf. It's a very nice image you've given me of my mother in her last moments. It seems that she was ready where I was not. But do you think that she will miss me where she is?

Gandalf put his arm around Bilbo. "I am sure she already does, dear Bilbo," he said. "I am sure she does." He kept his arm around Bilbo as the hobbit wept the rest of his tears.

ooo

"Mistress Baggins is dead?" Thorin said. The news had come to him from Bard during one of his mountain visits. Grief struck him immediately, for Belladonna had been a dear friend and teacher.

"Aye, her heart gave out," Bard replied. "I think she never recovered from her husband's death."

Thorin was silent, and Bard reached out to put his hand on his shoulder. "Come, your majesty, let us find you something to eat and drink. You've gone pale."

Once they had both sat down, Thorin began to speak. "We shall hold a banquet in her memory," he decided. "One for both men and dwarrow to attend. I believe she was dear enough to many of us to honor her so."

Bard nodded. "Then it will be done."

Thorin was silent another moment, a hundred thoughts all racing through his mind simultaneously. Yet, one overarching theme had begun to concern him. "And Bilbo? What of him? What shall become of him?"

"Well, Bilbo can care for himself," Bard answered after a pause and a sigh. "But there's nothing to keep him here now. Last I heard, some of his relations are coming to take him home. Or back West, rather. He's seen a good deal of sorrow since he's been here, but we shall be sorry to see him go. The children especially will miss him."

Thorin nodded and covered his mouth with his hand as it curled into a fist. It was pointless trying to hide the despair he felt at the idea of Bilbo returning West. He would leave the East, leave Erebor, leave where Thorin could never see him again. Perhaps he had once said that he would not think of Bilbo anymore, but now he realized he could not help it. Bilbo was leaving, and the hurt of it overwhelmed him like a great tidal wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the last death, i promise. while writing, i definitely wanted to show a little more of what happened than the miniseries did with mr. hale's death. i hope those of you that are familiar with the series enjoyed the changes.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned: the last scene of this chapter kind of jumps around POVs without any warning. It mirrors Elizabeth Gaskell's style in that way.
> 
> Also, I may have to slow down updates after the next chapter as I am starting my junior year of college and will have to dedicate my time to that. Never fear! I'll still update asap.
> 
> Also Also, THANK YOU ALL FOR 100 KUDOS <3

Belladonna's many books were off of the shelves and stacked in corners. The dishes were tied up and put in trunks. One by one, the little things that had made the Bagginses house their home were disappearing from the walls, shelves, and tables. Nearly none of it could go with Bilbo when he went back West. In fact, most of it would have to be auctioned away just to afford the journey.

"I'll not part with all of the books," Bilbo said to Gandalf from his armchair. He had collapsed there when it all started to overwhelm him again, leaving Primula and Drogo to the last bit of the packing up. At least, he had Frodo on his lap, and that cheered him a little. "They were mother's books."

"Of course not, dear Bilbo," Gandalf assured him. "You must say what you want, and I will be sure it is kept for you during the auction. I take it you mean to live in Brandy Hall with your cousins when you return to the Shire? Yes? Then there is that to consider, of course. You shall not need everything here."

Bilbo looked over at the table next to him where lay his mother's old copy of the tale of Beren and Luthien. How often it had been a topic of conversation between her and Thorin! With great fondness, Bilbo could recall listening in on their discussions. Thorin would be animated, and his mother would simply be thrilled to talk about it with another person. He would miss that now. He reached for the book and held it to his chest as he sat up a little straighter. "I must say goodbye to our friends," he decided.

At that moment, Drogo walked in and took Frodo from Bilbo's lap. "Dear Bilbo, I cannot imagine how many friends you can have here! I'm sure it's not many. But if you wish to go, Prim and I will help you say goodbye. But then we are leaving this sorrowful place for good. Today, if we can. Gandalf has promised to manage affairs for you here while you're gone, you know."

Drogo meant well, of course. And Bilbo was too tired to argue.

ooo

Bilbo, Prim, and Drogo found Bard and Tilda walking down the street before they made it to the Great House.

"Ah, Bilbo!" Bard said waving to him. "We were afraid you might have left by now. We were just on your way to your house to see if you were still there."

Bilbo embraced Tilda and Bard. "No, of course not! I could not leave without saying goodbye, but I am leaving today after I visit the Mountain one last time."

Tilda clung to Bilbo. "I will miss you," she said.

"And I you, my dear girl."

"We shall all miss you," Bard said. "Goodness knows you've been a source of good counsel and a true friend beyond that."

Bilbo's cheeks went red. "Well, I don't know about that. But I do have one last thing for you." He reached into his pack and brought out a book. "This is for Timi, to encourage his reading. It's a book of old Hobbitish rhymes and tales. It isn't much, I know, but it seems books are all I have to give now."

Bard took the book gratefully. "I see to it that it is well-used," he promised. Then he embraced Bilbo once more. "Goodbye, Master Hobbit."

"Goodbye," Bilbo returned. "My dear friend."

ooo

 _Now, to the mountain,_ Bilbo thought to himself. _It must be done._ But he had gone rather rigid and pale at the thought of it, and he had hard work finding the words to explain how and why the Bagginses were acquainted with the king under the mountain and his family.

They were shown into the drawing-room, in which a fire had only just been kindled. Drogo and Primula both huddled themselves up in their respective shawls and jackets and shivered.

"What an icy room!" Drogo said.

They had to wait for some time before Dis, Fili, Kili, and Sigrid entered. It seemed there was some softening in Dis' heart towards Bilbo, now that he was going away out of her sight. She remembered his spirit, as shown at various times and places, even more than the patience with which she had endured long and wearing cares. His countenance was blander than usual, as he greeted her; there was even a shade of tenderness in his manner, as she noticed the tear-swollen face and the quiver in the voice which Bilbo tried to make so steady.

"Allow me to introduce my cousins, Drogo and Primula Baggins and their lad Frodo. These are Their Highnesses the Princess Dis, Prince Fili, Princess Sigrid, and Prince Kili," Bilbo said. When the pleasantries were over, he continued. "I am going away from Dale tomorrow; I do not know if you are aware of it."

"We'd heard something of the like," Fili confirmed. "I'm sorry to hear it, I truly am."

"Not more sorry than I am," Sigrid said, striding over to where Bilbo sat and taking his hand. "Couldn't we convince you to stay, my friend? Maybe just until the winter is over."

Bilbo looked over at his cousins. "I'm afraid what remains of my family would not hear of it," he said. "But I shall miss this place as much as I shall miss you, my dear. I have been very happy here."

"Well," Sigrid said, a tremor in her voice. "You can have this to remember me by, then." She took a brass ring off of her little finger - one she had before she was married - and stuck it on Bilbo's ring finger.

"Sigrid, I can't-" Bilbo began.

Sigrid waved away his words. "But you can, and I wouldn't dream of sending you away without it."

"But I have nothing to give in return!"

She leaned in conspiratorily. "I still have those ridiculous laces, and now they will be even dearer to me."

Bilbo almost laughed until he looked over Sigrid's shoulder to see Dis staring at him. He owed her something, he felt. "I want to apologize for my manner the last time I saw you;" he said to her, "and to say that I am sure you meant kindly—however much we may have misunderstood each other."

Both Primula and Drogo looked extremely perplexed by what Bilbo had said. Thanks for kindness from the same lady that he had complained of so often in letters! and apologies for failure in good manners! It seemed so unlikely.

But Dis replied: "Master Baggins, I am glad you do me justice. I did no more than I believed to be my duty in remonstrating with you as I did. I have always desired to act the part of a friend to you. I am glad you do me justice."

"And," said Bilbo, blushing excessively as she spoke, "will you do me justice, and believe that though I cannot—I do not choose—to give explanations of my conduct, I have not acted in any way with the purpose of spiting you, your family, or your people?"

Bilbo's voice was so soft, and his eyes so pleading, that Dis was for once affected by the charm of manner to which she had hitherto proved herself invulnerable.

"Yes, I do believe you. Let us say no more about it. Where are you going to reside, Master Baggins? I understood from Gandalf that you were going to leave Dale. You never did like the East, you know," said Dis, with a sort of grim smile; "but for all that, you must not expect me to congratulate you on quitting it. Where shall you live?"

"With my cousins," replied Bilbo, turning towards Primula and Drogo.

"Yes, Bilbo will reside with us in Brandy Hall in Buckland. He is Drogo and mine's dearest relation," said Primula, looking fondly at Bilbo; "and I am glad to acknowledge my own obligation for any kindness that has been shown to him. If you and your father the king ever come to the town, we will do anything in our power to show you attention."

Dis thought in her own mind, that Bilbo had not taken much care to enlighten his cousins as to the relationship between herself and Thorin, towards whom the fine-lady cousin was extending her soft patronage; so she answered shortly,

"My father is dead. Thorin, the king, is my brother. I never travel beyond Dale; so I am not likely to be able to avail myself of your polite offers."

At this instant Thorin himself entered the room.

"Thorin," said his sister, "these people are Primula and Drogo Baggins, Master Baggins's cousins. I am sorry to say, that Master Baggins's call is to wish us good-bye."

"So, you are going then," said he in a low voice.

Bilbo did not answer, but he walked over to Thorin, putting the rest of the room behind his back. "I-," he began, struggling to find the words. At last, he held out the book he had brought. "I brought you mother's copy of Beren and Luthien. I thought that you might like it as a keepsake if nothing else."

Thorin took the book gently and brought it to his chest. "I shall treasure it," he promised, catching Bilbo's gaze with his own. "I shall treasure it as I shall treasure your mother's memory. She was a good friend to me."

Bilbo smiled, and there was a brief silence.

"So, you _are_ going," Thorin repeated, his voice dropping nigh to a whisper. "Never to come back to- Never to return?"

"The caravan comes this evening to escort us," provided Drogo. Thorin did not even look up at the other hobbits.

"I wish you well, Thorin," Bilbo returned before walking back to his seat.

Thorin turned away. He had not sat down, and now he seemed to be examining something on the table, almost as if he had discovered an unopened letter, which had made him forget the present company. He did not even seem to be aware when they got up to take their leave, but he followed them to the doors of the mountain to bid a final farewell.

He started forwards, however, to help Primula and Drogo down the rocky surface of the doorstep. As Primula and Drogo started down the path, he and Bilbo stood close together in the doorway, and it was impossible but that the recollection of the day of the riot should force itself into both their minds.

Into the king's it came associated with the speeches of the following day; the hobbit's passionate declaration that there was not a man in all that violent and a desperate crowd, for whom he did not care as much as for Thorin. And at the remembrance of Bilbo's taunting words, Thorin's brow grew stern, though his heart was beating thick with a longing love. It was no longer the Longing he had before he had known his One. It was the longing he had suffered since the day after the riots when he knew that Bilbo would not - could not - be his. He had thought he had trimmed that particular longing down to naught but the barest roots, but they had sprung up again in him. He realized then that his love for Bilbo could never be anything less than an ancient, blooming tree with twisting branches, ever-growing and never tameable.

 _No!_ thought he after his stubborn way, _I nearly tamed it once, nearly lost it all. Let Bilbo Baggins go,—with his stony heart, and his fair face;—how set and terrible his look is now, for all his loveliness! He is afraid I shall speak something that will require some stern rejection. But I shall not speak again if he does not wish to hear my heart. Let him go. Oh, but he will find it hard to meet with a truer heart than mine, for I have loved him more dearly than I ever thought possible. I love him more dearly than I shall ever love again. He met my soul in darkness and made it glow. Yes, I love him still and shall never stop! Still, I must let him go!_

And there was no tone of regret or emotion of any kind in the voice with which he said good-bye; and Thorin's offered hand was taken by Bilbo with a resolute calmness, and dropped as carelessly as if it had been a dead and withered flower.

Thorin retreated back into the mountain in an instant and ran the steps to the balcony over the doors. There, he could see only the back of his One as Bilbo walked away from him forever. How he longed to see his face but once more, and perhaps even find some sad affection returned.

He found himself muttering - begging - in a voice that could not break above stiffness in his throat, "Look back. Look back at me."

But still, Bilbo pressed on and did not look back once.


	22. Chapter 22

Drogo was in bed reading by candlelight when Primula climbed in on the other side and sighed very pointedly. Drogo did not look up from his book. Primula sighed a little louder. Still, no response from her husband.

"Drogo!" she finally said. Drogo only hummed in response, but that was good enough for Primula. "I'm worried about Bilbo," she said.

Drogo slowly bookmarked his place, closed the book, and looked at Primula with a quirked brow. "Whatever for, my dear?"

"Well," Primula said, "I simply don't know if or when he is ever going to cheer up. I mean, it has been three months already since we've been back, and he does not leave the house on his own. And he only ever wears black."

"He has lost both of his parents in a relatively short period of time," Drogo pointed out. "It's natural for him to mourn like this."

Primula sighed and sank into the pillows. "I know," she said. "But the Bilbo I remember was never like this, so it all feels so unnatural to me. I suppose you're right. I should let him alone."

Drogo nodded, blew out the candle, and turned on his side to sleep.

"Mind you," Primula said. "He has been very good with Frodo. Actually Frodo is the only thing that seems to make him happy. Maybe he needs a child of his own."

"And how do you think he'll get them at his age?" Drogo groaned. "Besides, I don't think that Bilbo is really the type to settle down with a lass if you catch my drift."

Primula rolled onto her side. "Well, in any case, I've had word from Gandalf. He's coming here the day after tomorrow. Perhaps he can make Bilbo smile."

"I'm sure," Drogo said. "Now, please, go to sleep, Prim."

ooo

Bilbo leapt up from the bench he was sat on the minute he saw Gandalf coming down the path.

"Gandalf!" he cried. "My dear Gandalf! A very good morning to you, my friend."

"And to you, Bilbo," Gandalf chuckled. "I say, this is a merry reception and a welcome one at that. I have been scowled at endlessly on the journey here."

"Hobbits for you," Bilbo said with a tsk. "Not counted among the very wise, and with good reason. Come in, come in! I assume the auction is all done."

Gandalf followed Bilbo inside the hole and put his large grey hat on the rack. "Yes, and rather successfully I might add. Nothing was left at the end of it."

Bilbo blinked in shock. "What, nothing? Everything was bought up?"

Leaning on his staff, Gandalf nodded slowly. "Yes, Bilbo. You had a very interested buyer, I think. He bought up nearly everything. Your bookcases, your kitchenware, your little writing desk..."

Bilbo furrowed his brows. "I- I'm sorry. He? Who-"

"Thorin, of course," Gandalf supplied.

Bilbo stared dumbfounded.

"I will not pretend to know all that has transpired between you and Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf sighed. "Nor will I do you the discourtesy of asking. All I will say is that he has been out of sorts lately, and it seemed to bring him back to himself to be able to do you this service. Yes, it is a service. What use has the king under the mountain for hobbitish kitchenware?" He shook his head at the thought and moved with Bilbo to the sitting room.

Bilbo settled into his chair across from Gandalf. "So, I guess that I am much better off than I was before."

Gandalf took out his pipe and chuckled. "Much better off indeed. You have a good enough amount of coin now to go looking for your own hole, though I suspect you are comfortable here with your cousins."

"Yes," Bilbo confirmed. "And I like to think that they are comfortable with me. I've made very good friends with Frodo, my godson, you see."

Gandalf nodded and blew a smoke ring. "I thought, then, that you would like to put your money to better use. Something amusing."

"Oh, no, Gandalf," Bilbo said immediately. "Don't tempt me to an adventure now. I have had quite enough of one on the journey back home."

"My dear Bilbo," Gandalf said. "If I were to invite you to another adventure, I should be sure there was more substance to it than mere amusement. I am only suggesting a brief holiday to Hobbiton, and I would accompany you there."

Bilbo leaped to his feet. "Oh, Gandalf! Do you really mean it?"

"Of course!" Gandalf replied. "You are in need of some amusement, really. And as I am here, I would like to be the one to provide it. Do you like the idea?"

Bilbo was grinning now. "When can we go? Tomorrow?"

Gandalf chuckled. "As you like, Bilbo. As you like."

ooo

It did not take long to get to Hobbiton, and before he could blink, Bilbo's feet were trodding down paths he had tramped through as a boy. The spring was new, and crisp, and green and left the soles of his feet colored the same as the grass. Like a string tied to his heart, he felt himself being pulled home without thinking. His legs knew the way to carry him.

The world burst golden at his first sight of Bag End. The green door opened, and there was Father, walking to join Mother on the bench outside the house. There were two cups of tea in Bungo's hands. When they saw Bilbo watching them, they smiled brightly and waved to him.

And then the vision broke.

It was Lobelia coming through the door that she had painted orange.

"Why, Bilbo Baggins, I would not have expected you back here," she said with a smug grin on her face. "Welcome to my home."

"Lobelia," Bilbo said. It took all of his power and Gandalf's hand on his shoulder to stop a snarl.

"Won't you come in for tea?" Lobelia asked. "It has been so long since I've had family here."

"Bagginses or Bracegirdles? I can't imagine that your side of the family could be kept away," Bilbo said.

Lobelia's eyes went steely. "Come, Bilbo, let's not be unpleasant. I am only asking you for tea. That is all."

That, of course, was not all. Lobelia wished for nothing more than to rub it in his nose that she was now the legal and proper mistress of Bag End, and that was apparent by the way she turned up her nose and let a smirk on her mouth. But confound it all if Bilbo Baggins was about to allow Lobelia Sackville-Baggins to accuse him of being unpleasant.

"Very well, Lobelia," Bilbo said. "I'll have a cup of tea."

Gandalf took his leave very swiftly, and Bilbo was left alone to follow Lobelia inside.

"We have had to make some improvements," Lobelia said as Bilbo took his regular place at the dinner table. "Oh, no, not there Bilbo. That's Otho's seat."

Otho was not there, but Bilbo rolled his eyes and changed his seat nonetheless. "And changing the door from green to orange is an improvement, is it? I wonder how you will ever find decent flowers that do not look ghastly with that color, but I leave it to your expertise. Though, I did notice the roses were gone."

Lobelia frowned as she poured Bilbo's tea. "The Gamgee's have decided to seek employment elsewhere. The older chap was getting run down, I understand; and, of course, I cannot be expected to manage the roses myself being mistress of Bag End. Besides, it gives Lotho a place to bring his friends and play."

"Ah, I'm sure he finds that preferable to learning his letters," Bilbo said and sipped his tea. It was rather weak. "Tell me, is he still struggling to spell simple words?"

Lobelia smiled with a scrunched nose. "He has learned all the letters he needs to. I think I would prefer him altogether illiterate than a great reader with fanciful ideas. Such hobbits are prone to adventuring, you know. I'll not have an adventurer for a son."

"Adventurer? Like my mother, is that what you mean?" Bilbo said.

"Ah, you said it, not I," Belladonna said.

Bilbo stood. "So, as I understand it," he began, his voice rising, "It is better that someone be ignorant and uneducated than take an interest in the wide world and its many wonders? Is that what I am to believe?"

Lobelia sighed. "My dear Bilbo, I see that Belladonna's Tookishness has rubbed off on you. I'm willing to forgive your manners as you have been in the East where life is a little more wild."

"More wild!" Bilbo exclaimed. "Do you know, Lobelia? I have been the dinner guest of kings and the chaperone of elves. I have seen glittering mountains and known the words to describe the feeling one has at the first sight of the inside of Erebor. In the East, my manners earned me the dear friendship of princes and princesses. So, you may keep your forgiveness to yourself and confound your ugly little orange door and flowerless patch of dirt. I take my leave, madam!"

He stomped out of the hole and did not turn back to see the look of outrage on Lobelia's face.

ooo

When Bilbo caught up to Gandalf walking through the Hobbiton market, he recounted the story of tea with Lobelia in entirety, and Gandalf actually laughed.

"Whatever are you laughing for?" Bilbo questioned.

"I was thinking of Dis," Gandalf said, still chuckling. "How she would love to be called wild."

Bilbo considered this a moment before a smile broke onto his face. "Oh, dear," he said. "I'm afraid I lost my temper very badly."

"Not at all," Gandalf assured him. "I've never been fond of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. I've always thought that someone should have the nerve to put her in her proper place."

Bilbo quirked a brow. "And that could not be you?"

"No," Gandalf answered. "I'm afraid my version of putting her in her place would have been turning her into a great, bumpy toad."

"Ah, that would have been mine as well, if I had the skill," Bilbo laughed.

They were coming to the edges of the market now and walking down a pleasant little park with scattered benches. "I am afraid this holiday has not gone as I hoped, and I am sorry for it," Gandalf mused.

Bilbo's nose twitched. "You know," he began. "When we first arrived in Dale, I was guilty of romanticizing the Shire. I've got to work hard now at not doing the opposite."

"Oh no, I can't have this," Gandalf answered. "Dis being wild is bad enough. But romantic? No, no! You wouldn't call Dale romantic in any way, surely?"

Bilbo laughed but did not answer.

ooo

The sun was setting, and on the morrow, Bilbo would return to Buckland. There was something pressing at his mind as the sky thickened with purple-grey clouds that reminded him of the ones that used to pass over Dale as he would look out on a lakeside sunset.

Gandalf was sitting next to him, watching the sun go down and smoking his pipe.

"Gandalf?" Bilbo began, breaking the peaceful silence.

Gandalf replied with a hum.

"When I was escorting Tauriel out of Dale. Well, we were very secret, I can promise you, but for all of that, we were still seen. We were seen by Thorin."

Gandalf turned to him, eyebrows raised. "I see."

"That is not the worst of it," Bilbo said, now desperate to relieve himself of the secrets he had kept too long. "A man approached Tauriel, knowing that she was an Elf. He fell into the water when Tauriel pushed him back, but he died later. There was nearly an inquest. Someone had seen me, and I... I lied to the chief investigator Nori."

Gandalf paused. "Well, I don't see the problem. Tauriel did not cause this man's death?"

"No!" Bilbo assured him. "It is just that I lied... and Thorin knows it. I hate to think... I hate to think that Thorin might think badly of me."

"Are you sure that is all?"

Bilbo did not quite know the answer to that. He looked back out at the sunset. "I thought it was going to be such a lovely day," he muttered.

Gandalf put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Perhaps I ought to have a word with Thorin, though I'm afraid he does not think too highly of me."

Bilbo shook his head. "I do not want him to know about Tauriel. It would hurt both her and Kili so deeply if I took that away from them. Don't say anything, please. I- I don't know what I want, to be honest."

Gandalf took his hand off of Bilbo's shoulder. "Very well. Let us think of other things. You know, Bilbo, I had an idea when your mother died of looking after you."

Bilbo smiled. "But you have! You are!"

"Not as well as I might. I promised your mother I would take care of you to the best of my ability. I have some gold I acquired from a troll hoard not terribly far from the Shire. It's a sizable amount, but I've no use for it. I have been waiting for the right reason to give it away, and I have found it. I wish the gold to belong to you completely."

Bilbo furrowed his brows. "But I can't! I will not!"

"Oh, yes you will," Gandalf insisted. "Do not test me in this, Bilbo Baggins. I am going to be going away for some time soon. I would be at peace knowing that you have the gold and are putting it to good use."

Bilbo did not answer for some time. Until he said, "Going away?"

"Only for a time," Gandalf assured him. "I shall be back someday, in this age or the next. There are many questions. Questions that need answering. You still have that ring you found in the Misty Mountains?"

Bilbo nodded. He had kept that rather out of sight and mind for some time.

Gandalf hummed. "Well, I would not take it out again, if I were you. But come, we must rest. And if we start early, we will be back in Buckland in time for Second Breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize. I know getting this chapter out took much longer than expected, but college has been kicking my butt since August. I don't have a clear timeline for the next chapter, but I promise it will be soon! We're closing in on the last couple of chapters, and I'm super excited for you guys to read the last bits.


End file.
